Courtship
by TBear6000
Summary: Post CotBP, Pre DMC. A tale of Will and Elizabeth's courtship as their relationship grows from newly discovered love to that of a husband and wife.
1. A Want Of Chaperones

AN: This is a sequel of sorts to my Pre CotBP fic, _Longing_. It's not necessary to have read it to have an understanding of this story, but I may from time to time refer back to details or events that were mentioned in that story, so you may find it helpful to read _Longing_ if you haven't already.

* * *

Courtship

* * *

Fourteen days had passed since the almost hanging of Captain Jack Sparrow, when the truth that Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann had kept unspoken for eight years had finally come to light. Of those fourteen days, not a single one had passed without the pair spending at least some time in each other's company.

Governor Swann, for his part, had been forced into a reluctant acceptance of the fact that his headstrong daughter was determined to be near this man as much as possible – without the detraction of interlopers, regardless of the fact that propriety surely demanded their presence. He well knew his daughter was bound to do whatever she thought right; there would be no stopping her, not that he ever wished to try. Though he had done his best to start her on the path to becoming a proper lady, nevertheless, from an early age he had given Elizabeth her every heart's desire, no matter how unorthodox that might be. If nothing else, her longstanding friendship with the young man in question was proof of that.

Still, there were ways of getting around her demands, such as encouraging as much time as possible be spent somewhere upon the manor, thus ensuring that he could always have some maid, cook, groundskeeper, or gardener keeping an eye on them. Not that he _expected_ the young blacksmith to lead his beautiful daughter into indiscretions, for it seemed William was far more apt to adhere to proper behavior than Elizabeth had ever been. Yet his daughter could be extremely willful, and even the most steadfast of men were not immune to all temptations; even they had their breaking point. Furthermore, even if their behavior was exactly as it should be – as his daughter insisted – appearances must be considered. Therefore, he was quite certain that his solution was the proper course of action. It was not unanticipated then, to either father or daughter, when Elizabeth mentioned her plans to surprise Will with a seaside picnic that Weatherby instead suggested that they indulge in high tea in the garden, where it was quite charming this time of year. After some earnest deliberations on the subject, his daughter relented – still harboring, however, the secret intention of straying with Will to their beach before the day was through.

With that plan firmly in mind, Elizabeth – attired in one of the more sensible, less cumbersome dresses she now chose to wear on a daily basis – set out for the smithy to lure her love away from his work; Port Royal would just have to survive one afternoon without the benefits of their skilled blacksmith. She knew though he would decline at first, due to the obligation of his many orders, he would eventually relent. In addition to the profession of their love, many other things had changed since they returned from their pirate adventure. Although certainly far from improper, their ordeal and the discovery of his true heritage had caused Will to discover the value of freedom. He was now more relaxed and uninhibited – both with her and in society – then she had ever known him to be.

The past days had been heaven on earth for the pair of them. Her father had insisted on a formal courtship, despite them having already known one another for nearly a decade; to jump into anything too quickly, he insisted, would make it seem as if something untoward had occurred between them while at sea. Furthermore, there were the usual considerations of position, finance, and property to be reasoned through before making any serious commitments. Elizabeth cared not for the 'usual considerations'. All she could think of, both day and night – especially at night – was Will.

Though less retrained, Will still had more concern for practicality than Elizabeth, perhaps because she had never been required to. He saw the benefit of a formal courtship. It would allow him the opportunity to seek a more lucrative living and begin setting something aside for their future and, if nothing else, it would give him time to convince Governor Swann of his worthiness as a husband to his only daughter.

When Will turned from his hammering to see who had walked into the shop, he was not at all surprised to discover Elizabeth standing there, as she had announced her intention to stop in to see him the evening before. Though there was work to be done, much as she had anticipated, he happily agreed to accompany her back to the Governor's Mansion and join her for tea. He would simply have to complete the unfinished orders in the nighttime hours, not that he would mind the distraction, for his newly increased intimacy with Elizabeth had done nothing to squelch his nocturnal longings for her – if possible, it had only increased them.

Thus, an hour later, Will and Elizabeth found themselves enjoying a pleasant afternoon tea in the privacy of her garden. Though, true to his word, her father stayed far from that particular wing of the mansion, it had not stopped him from seeing to it that some servant or another should keep popping in at the most inopportune of moments, such as when Elizabeth was feeding Will pastries or he was attempting to kiss a stray granule of sugar from her lips.

With a final sigh of frustration, Elizabeth less than gently set down her tea and whispered her escape plan to Will. Though he knew the imprudence of it, as such frequent table service obviously must have been of the Governor's design and suddenly disappearing would no doubt send the poor man into fits of discomfort, Will had never felt particularly at ease at the Governor's Mansion, as it served as a constant reminder of the difference of class and station between himself and Elizabeth. Consequently, he found himself readily taking her hand and slipping away toward the small path which weaved past the servants' entrance, their longstanding means of escape since childhood.

After making their way safely across her property without being detected, the pair walked arm and arm toward their beach, Elizabeth still recovering from the giddy high that always resulted when she had successfully gotten away with something slightly scandalous. Will smiled at her, teasingly suggesting that she enjoyed the forbidden nature of their escape as much as his actual company. This prompted Elizabeth to lovingly stroke his hand and sincerely avow this was not the case; she was merely tired of interruptions and wished to have him all to herself.

"I would not think ill of your father, Elizabeth, if he insisted on a chaperone," Will confessed.

"Ha!" she contemptuously proclaimed. "Father knows better than to set a chaperone after us, in spite of what the gossips may say. He knows it would only provoke my ire and I would manage to evade them anyhow, so his efforts would come to no good. He learned that lesson years ago when he gave up on my having a governess."

Will laughed. "Yes, I recall. He sent the last one away roughly six months after we arrived in Port Royal."

"Well, I wasn't about to let anyone stop me from running on the beach and playing pirates with you," Elizabeth said in her defense. Tenderly, she added, "I would never let anyone or anything keep me from having you."

Reaching out, Will gently rested his hand upon her neck, burying his fingers in her upswept hair. "I love you, Elizabeth."

He softly brought his lips to hers, kissing her slowly, decadently, before lightly pulling away.

Eyes still closed, Elizabeth sighed, savoring the feel, the taste of him on her lips.

"Mmm," she murmured, slowing opening her eyes as a luxurious smile stretched across her face. "Tell me again."

"I _love_ you," Will eagerly complied.

Elizabeth sighed blissfully. "I waited eight years to hear you say those words. Tell me again and again and again."

Will laughed soft and low. "Elizabeth, I love you abundantly, fiercely - in any and all ways."

Elizabeth ardently grabbed his face, bringing his mouth roughly to hers and kissing him intensely. Will was momentarily taken aback by her zeal, but quickly recovered, returning her kiss with equal fervor.

As their impromptu, albeit passionate, kiss came to an end, Elizabeth slid her hands from Will's cheek and neck to rest softly against his chest, fiddling with the open lapel of his shirt. She looked on him in such a way that stirred up all sorts of improper feelings within Will, and though his mind warned him he ought to put some distance between them, his heart and body refused to obey, and his hands remained firmly planted upon her waist.

"It has only been just over a fortnight since we returned and professed our love," Elizabeth keenly whispered, "and yet I already know your lips so well."

"Do you, my love?" Will replied huskily. "Mine are yet eager to memorize yours more thoroughly."

"I would never dream of denying you," she countered, lunging for his lips.

Will evaded her, kissing her chastely on the forehead instead, and gently extracting himself from her arms. "I shall remember that and use your words to my advantage – "

Elizabeth smiled at this, reaching for him once more, but again he eluded her.

"Once we reach a more private venue," he finished.

* * *

A quarter hour later, Will and Elizabeth stood on their secret beach locked in a warm embrace as they regarded the ocean. 

"To think," Elizabeth softly said, breaking the silence, "this is the very beach we used to play at wooden swords upon, and now I stand here in your arms."

At her words, Will drew her closer to him. "Yes, it is all still a bit surreal. I am yet afraid of waking from this dream, for that is what this seems. After so many years of keeping silent, locking away all the love I felt for you, to at last be able to say it aloud, tell you all that I feel – and have you return those sentiments….It is – I am…I am so _happy_, Elizabeth. Purely happy."

"As am I," she replied, smiling lovingly into his eyes. "It is tremendously …._freeing_ to finally lay bare the whole of my heart's wishes and desires. For so long I lived on the hope of one affectionate smile from you, the slightest trace of love or longing but, try as I might, you seemed to have an aversion to any sort of familiarity with me."

Will laughed lightly at this. "If you only knew how very familiar I longed to be," he said, brushing his lips across her cheek. "I never wished to avoid your nearness. You must know by now how very much I welcomed it, dreamed of it, yearned for it. My only fear was that if I did keep close company with you, one day my tongue would slip, my arms would reach for that which they coveted. And if I ever did touch you, I was certain I would never be able to let you go, and I was convinced you would never welcome such attentions."

"And now," Elizabeth asked as she snaked her hands about his neck, weaving her fingers into his hair and loosening the tie which held it back, "do you have any complaints about my reception of your touch? Or perhaps you find my affections too bold?"

Will held her more closely against him in reply. "I love you, my adventurous, daring, bold, enchanting Elizabeth."

She smiled contentedly, greatly pleased. "Tell me again."

"I love you deeply, madly, truly. But what of you?" Will gently teased. "Tell me what _your_ heart feels, for yours were not the only ears which spent years burning to hear words of tender affection from certain lips."

"I _love_ you, Will," Elizabeth softly replied. "I belong to you, only you, _always_ you."

She wiggled from his arms and bounded down the beach, playfully outstretching her arms. "I shall shout it from the rooftops so that all of Port Royal – nay, the entire Caribbean – may know that I'm in love with the most perfect man."

Will laughed. "I am well satisfied if you simply whisper it to me," he told her, his voice low and ardent, "followed by a tender kiss."

Elizabeth heard his tone and immediately transformed from playful to alluring. She began taking slow, measured steps back to his side. "And do you still have difficulty believing this all to be real?"

Something in her eyes and voice held Will spellbound, rooted in place, unable to reply. He wordlessly nodded, engrossed by the fire in her eyes and the answering flame that burned within him.

"Then," she replied, finally standing before him, "perhaps I may find a way to convince you this is not but a dream."

Elizabeth slowly reached out and laid her hand upon his chest, her fingers traversing the fabric to find the open expanse of skin left exposed by the deep v of his shirt. Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth in wonder at the feelings such a touch produced in her, she gently caressed his chest, her fingertips devouring every inch of his flesh that was laid bare to her.

"Elizabeth," Will shakily began, but whatever protest he was about to make was halted by her warm breath on his skin as she bent to place his requested 'tender kiss' just above his wildly pounding heart. The sensation of her soft lips on his bare skin, however, proved to be too great and he abruptly stepped back away from her.

Elizabeth regarded him in silent question.

"I…." Will awkwardly attempted to explain. "Love, I fear you do not realize the effect you have upon me."

Though by no means well versed in the ways of a man and a woman beyond what a fortnight's time spent with Will had taught her thus far, she instantly comprehended his meaning. Far from being put off, she was instead invigorated.

"And I do not think you realize the effect you have upon _me_," she whispered enticingly, closing the distance between them once more. "But now is the perfect time to school one another."

Will momentarily broke eye contact with Elizabeth, somewhat dazed by her boldness in this aspect of their relationship.

Quickly recovering, he teased, "That is a rather improper statement, Miss Swann." Despite his mock censure, his hands nevertheless found her trim waist. "Or perhaps I mistake your meaning?"

"I believe you comprehend my meaning perfectly, Mr. Turner," she countered, her arms slipping around his shoulders. "And the sentiment should come as no surprise, for it has always been that you incite amorous thoughts in my mind and wicked feelings in my body."

Will's eyes darkened at her words, and Elizabeth could tell in that moment that he wanted her fiercely and was fighting the urge to take her into his arms and live all manner of untoward fantasies with her then and there. Rather than frighten her, the knowledge only further excited her.

"Elizabeth," Will answered at length, his voice an octave lower than usual – a tone she was quickly learning to connect to his physical desire for her, "when you say such things to me, I – "

Any further speech was cut off by her lips greedily taking his.

Will's arms quickly wrapped about her waist and upper back, pulling her against him. As much of a gentleman as he was, her blatant filtrations had been too great a provocation, and he hungrily devoured her lips – to Elizabeth's great enjoyment. Kisses of any sort between them were yet relatively new; kisses of such a passionate nature were still in a stage of discovery, as they each became more emboldened by the other's reception. She felt a low murmur build in her throat as he took her lower lip into his mouth, sucking and lightly nipping at it.

The need for oxygen eventually caused them both to draw back, taking in short, uneven breathes. Will moved to claim her lips again, but Elizabeth pulled back, eyeing him purposefully as she gracefully descending to sit upon the sand, obviously intending for him to join her. Without a second thought, he abruptly sat down beside her, about to reach for her once more when, holding his gaze, she slowly lie fully back against the sand, a clear invitation in her eyes.

Though certainly far from novel in his dreams, something of this nature had never yet occurred in real life. As he watched her lying there before him in the sand, the chivalry in him hesitated but the fierce desire, nursed over the course of many long days and nights of wanting her, won out and he deftly lowered himself to lie alongside her, leaning over her and ardently tracing her features with his fingertips. Still, as this _was_ real life and not a fantasy, Will allowed his torso to press into hers as he eagerly kissed her, but kept his lower body a discreet distance from Elizabeth's.

His tongue fervently played with hers in a game they were beginning to know quite well. Elizabeth was gloriously musing on her utter correctness when long ago she had surmised that Will could show her games far more interesting than playing at pirates when she felt his lips leave hers. Her eyes shot open and she was about to protest when he began placing a string of soft kisses along her jaw line, causing her eyes fall closed again. This was unfamiliar and new, but she found that she liked it – liked it quite a lot, in fact. Loved it, she corrected, as he reached the tender skin just beneath her ear. As his path had reached a dead-end, he nimbly switched direction, trailing warm, moist kisses down her neck, his tongue darting out to taste her skin and discover if her flavor was as he had always imagined. Elizabeth whimpered slightly, finding profound pleasure in his attentions and wondering why he had never done this before, gasping slightly when he began nibbling and suckling at her flesh.

"Will," she sighed, unconsciously clutching at a small fistful of his shirt.

Her voice penetrated his senses, bringing him back to awareness for the first time since they had been reclined on the sand. Feeling her tugging at his shirt, and mistaking her breathless exclamation of his name for fear, he instantly sprang away from her all the way back up to his feet.

Elizabeth's eyes opened in bewilderment, finding her beloved standing some distance away, regarding her with a look of anguished remorse.

"Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Will adamantly repeated.

Her mind yet undone by his kisses, she scrambled to her feet and to his side, utterly confused as to what he thought he had done.

"I apologize," Will continued earnestly. "I – I forgot myself…."

"Will," Elizabeth attempted to interrupt him, now understanding his imagined error and wholeheartedly amused by it.

"I was carried away," he went out repentantly, evidently not hearing her.

"Will," she tried again, her amusement tempered by his clear devastation.

"I would never attempt to take liberties with you – "

"_Will_," the urgency in her voice must have broken through, for at last he seemed to hear her. "I don't believe there _is_ a liberty you could possibly take that would offend me."

He absorbed this information. "You are not upset, then?" Will timidly inquired.

Elizabeth could not stifle a smile at his adorably anxious reaction. "Not at all."

"But your protests? You grasped at my shirt, wishing for me to remove myself from you, and I would never want to – "

"Will, believe me, I did _not_ wish you to stop," she said sincerely, though her voice was laced with laughter. "You were not the only one carried away with passion," she explained in a sultry whisper.

Will noticeably reddened at her words, looking away from her, embarrassed at his misconception and spoiling of the moment.

"Come here," Elizabeth tenderly beckoned.

Will dutifully obeyed, both out of respect for Elizabeth and his own desire at the moment to be comforted and reassured by her. She placed his arms about her waist, weaving her own around his neck.

"Will, I am not the unreachable, unattainable Miss Swann. I am _your _Elizabeth, who engaged in sea battles, who fought pirates at your side. From the moment I first saw you, I willingly belonged to you. You needn't be afraid to hold me, to kiss me, to touch me. I shan't be offended. I love you. I _want_ you. I welcome your every touch, your every kiss, your – "

Whatever else she might have welcomed would never be known, as his lips abruptly descended upon hers, ending any further declarations. At length, Will pulled back, ending the kiss but keeping his lips touching hers.

Elizabeth smiled against them. "That's better." Placing one more light kiss upon his lips, she drew back. "Now, before we were interrupted," she said, delicately fingering the soft skin of her neck that still burned from his attentions, "…..that was…._lovely_. You must do it again sometime – tomorrow, I think."

Will laughed, taking her hand in his as they walked further down the beach. "Perhaps we will require a chaperone, after all."

* * *

AN#2: This is meant as an exploration of the development of Will and Elizabeth's relationship between the first two films. As such, there will not be a continual, interwoven plot. Think of this more as a collection of chronological oneshots that shows intimacy growing between them as the nature of their relationship continues to evolve. For example, it was my intention in this chapter to show that, although they are quite eager to be together, there is still some residual unsure, awkwardness between them, as they are yet a very new couple. In future chapters, they will have new and different issues to deal with. I guess you could say this is the story of the building of their relationship. In other words, you're in for a lot of Willabeth fluff, which is immensely enjoyable to write and hopefully half as fun to read! As always, I live on your reviews, so please let me know what you think. 


	2. Wicked Birthday

On the occasion of Will's twenty-first birthday, which arrived just short of a month before Elizabeth's, the couple collectively agreed that their preferred mode of celebration was a private rendezvous at the smithy, a condition that was fairly easy to arrange since the death of Mr. Brown and the passing of the shop's ownership to Will. 

As he was anticipating Elizabeth's arrival within the next hour, Will had doused the fire in the forge and currently stood examining a cooling sword, looking for any imperfections he might have missed. He was so engrossed with the task that he did not hear Elizabeth quietly slip into the smithy and slink up behind him, wrapping her arms about his hips.

Startled, he jumped slightly at her touch, but quickly relaxed against her body.

"Happy birthday, my darling," she purred into his ear.

Will grinned. Her tone made abundantly clear the mood his beloved was in, and he was immensely grateful that they had decided to spend the evening in the seclusion of the smithy instead of back at the manor as the Governor had suggested.

He turned slowly in her arms even as his hands found her delicate waist. "I hadn't expected you so soon," he told her, leaning down to place a teasing kiss at the corner of her mouth.

Elizabeth smiled up at him, greatly pleased at his playfulness. Tonight promised to be an exciting evening. "Yes, I know," she softly replied. "I was forced to leave early before the stores had closed for the night. Father is under the impression that I'm having a dress fitting followed by a late night supper hosted by Mary Edmonds – which, of course, you will be attending, as Father knows better than to believe that I wouldn't see you tonight."

Her hands slid up around his neck as she ended the confession of her supposed whereabouts, as always, quite pleased at her cunning. 

The deception, however, failed to achieve such a pleasant reaction from Will. At her words, his expression changed from one of carefree lightheartedness to apprehension. "He doesn't know you are here alone with me," he stated uneasily.

Elizabeth pouted slightly, not at all caring for the turn their conversation had taken. "I've made my thoughts on chaperones unmistakably clear to him. They're an imposition as well as an insult to both the man and the woman who are courting." When this did not appear to ease his mind, she soothingly added, "Father knows I keep company with you alone. He simply doesn't wish for me to see you alone _here_."

As it was clear her explanation was not helping matters, she hurriedly attempted a further justification. "After all, the smithy is a place of business, but your private living quarters are directly attached…..In his mind, it would be much like allowing me to receive you alone in my bedroom."

Will's eyebrows rose at the implication. "He does not trust me."

"No, Will," Elizabeth said, working her fingers through his hair appeasingly. "I believe _I_ am the one he does not trust." Snuggling closer to him, she whisperingly confided, "He fears my intentions towards you are not entirely honorable."

Will could not help but smile at this. "And are they?" 

"Perhaps we'll discover that as the evening wears on," she saucily replied, at last claiming his lips as she had wished to from the moment she entered the smithy.

* * *

An hour later, the couple sat side by side at Will's small table and chairs, just finishing off the remainder of the cold chicken, cheese, fruit and teacakes Elizabeth had brought. It made for a very cozy, domestic scene, the first such intimate dinner they had ever shared.

Elizabeth gazed dreamily at Will as she sipped her wine, his deep chocolate eyes wordlessly inquiring as to her thoughts.

"This is as I always wished it to be, Will," she tenderly disclosed.

"It's my perfect wish, as well – very nearly…..But what should happen in the event that your father asks Mary about her little dinner party?" he questioned.

"I was purposefully vague on the subject, and my father doesn't make it a habit of conversing with young women. I think he's a bit afraid of us. It is love alone that causes him to make the effort with me." Her brow furrowed as she thought further on Will's ongoing preoccupation with her alibi, prompting her to ask with a touch of annoyance, "Why does this bother you so? Why are you forever concerned with what my father is thinking?"

"Because I've yet to secure his good opinion, Elizabeth," Will answered, his voice laced with frustration he was attempting to quell. "I know you don't believe that matters, but it does."

"Will – "

"Your father does not know me, not truly. He's reluctantly accepted me. He even appears to like me, somewhat begrudgingly, but…." Will shook his head as he allowed his words to trial off.

Elizabeth sighed. "Father knows you're a good man, Will, but that's beside the point. _My_ opinion of you, _my_ feelings for you are all that matter to me. They should be all that matter to _you_."

"Elizabeth, I realize you live your life after your heart, disregarding what others say or think to the contrary. That takes courage and strength. It's a rare quality that I've always admired in you," Will said, gently taking her hands in his. "But I also know what it's like to love you fiercely and only want what is best for you, but still be completely shutout from your future, powerless to ensure your happiness. I know what it is to want to give you the world and not be allowed to."

"Oh, Will," Elizabeth brokenly began, "I – " 

"Your father permits me to court you because it is what you want and what you would have, regardless of what he says," Will continued. "But I don't wish for him to live with the pain of thinking that his beloved is making an unalterable mistake. I know that pain, Elizabeth."

"Will, I – I didn't realize," she said remorsefully, referring to the painful years of longing that Will had endured, the anxiety her father must currently be suffering, and her beloved's concern for the Governor despite her thoughtlessness on the issue. She began tracing slow circles across his palm, her eyes intent on her progress, unwilling to meet his gaze. "At times, your goodness makes me feel thoroughly ashamed. I think perhaps I'm not quite worthy of you."

Will could not stifle a burst of incredulous laughter. "_You_ unworthy of _me_? Surely you must have that backwards."

Elizabeth looked up at him sincerely. "I meant what I said. My behavior has been selfish and unfeeling."

"No," Will replied, lovingly brushing aside a loose strand of hair that had fallen across her eye. "You merely wanted to prove to me, to your father, to all of Port Royal that I was your equal."

" 'A smart match'," Elizabeth censoriously mimicked. "It's horribly unfair to you. No one would be reacting this way if I had chosen James, yet you are clearly the better man."

"In all but station."

"You are the better man in _all_ ways."

"Thank you, love. But some will never see it that way. Your refusal to accept that doesn't make you selfish, quite the contrary. You wished to be with me in spite of anything and anyone; you would let nothing stop you. And for that I love you," Will tenderly avowed. "But I do care what your father thinks of me. I must. He needs to know that I won't take advantage of you. He deserves to know that I would move heaven and earth to bring you happiness, that I would die before I let any harm come to you. He's loved you longer than I have. That affords him my respect."

"And you shall have his. Together, we'll see to it. I promise you…..But," Elizabeth began regretfully, "does that _really_ mean we can have no more clandestine meetings?"

"No," Will happily conceded. "There are benefits to meeting you in secret that I'm not prepared to give up." As if to underscore his point, he leaned over and lightly kissed her lips. "It only means we'll have to be very discreet."

"I can be discreet," she assured him.

Will looked at her skeptically.

"I _can_ be," Elizabeth retorted in mock outrage. "For eight years, you never knew I was in love with you – although I wasn't terribly discreet about that. But I will be about this. And I still say I already _was_. Father will never find out that I've spent the night here with you."

Will smiled. "When you say it like that you make it sound utterly wicked."

Elizabeth's face brightened. "Which reminds me," she excitedly said, springing from her chair next to him and onto his lap. "I've yet to give you your present."

His arms immediately found their way about her waist, his hands coming to rest low upon her hips. "My present is something wicked?" he asked, intrigued by her statement and thoroughly enjoying their new seating arrangement.

"Maybe," she giggled. "Close your eyes."

Will did as requested, eagerly awaiting his 'gift'. 

Elizabeth reached into the pocket of her skirt and withdrew a small box, placing it in the palm of her hand. "All right, I'm ready. Here is your present." When he failed to open his eyes, she frowned. "Will?"

At last, he looked at her, bewilderment and more than a little disappointment marking his features.

"You don't like it?" she questioned. "But you haven't even opened it."

"No, no, my darling," Will affectionately reassured, glancing for the first time at the box. "I'm sure I will love it."

She regarded him curiously, her head cocked to one side. "Then why….."

Will looked at her sheepishly, at length uneasily admitting, "It was only….when you said your gift was something 'wicked', I thought….I – I just….expected something else, that is all."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him, thoroughly amused at his discomfiture. "That will come later," she said, nevertheless, pausing to give him a slow, steady kiss. Abruptly breaking away with a satisfied sigh, she added, "Now open your present."

Will shook his head slightly, attempting to dislodge the now familiar cobwebs that never failed to invade his mind whenever she kissed him in such a way. "Yes, of course," he mumbled, still rattled, but managing to take the tiny box from her hand.

Lifting the lid, he discovered what appeared to be some sort of a necklace inside. Will took hold of its black cord and gently lifted the necklace free from its box to better examine it. Doing so, he found there was a silver-topped garnet gemstone attached to the cord.

"It's an amulet, said to offer protection and bring good fortune," Elizabeth enthusiastically explained. "I bought it at the docks from a gypsy woman – or perhaps she was a voodoo woman; I'm not certain. Either way, Father would've been furious to know I was speaking with her. _That, _Mr. Turner, and not your salacious presumption, is what makes your present wicked." 

Will laughed, hopelessly enchanted by her even if she was ever prone to getting them both into trouble.

"She said she traded it off a pirate ship, and I immediately thought of you. I think it goes well with your new look," she declared, indicating the black boots that now adorned his feet in place of the buckle shoes he used to wear. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," Will replied, his delight with the gift, as well as with her, evident in his voice. 

"Here," Elizabeth said, taking the necklace from his hand, "let me."

She further separated the opening of his shirt, running a caressing finger along his bare skin as she watched his reaction, before laying the stone flat against his chest. Reaching around his neck to tie a knot in the cord as he bent proved to be a more delicate matter. As she still sat sideways on his lap, the movement necessitated Will's face to all but be buried in Elizabeth's bosom. Such a position flustered the young woman, making it exceedingly difficult to tie a proper knot and lengthening the amount of time they must hold the pose.

"Have I mentioned how much I'm enjoying spending this birthday here with you?" Will asked, his voice tinged with mischief but his tone, a full octave lower then usual, betrayed that he was feeling much more than simple amusement at the situation.

"You have not," Elizabeth answered pertly, still attempting that seemingly impossible knot. "But if this is your feeble means of distraction, I must warn you, it will fail."

"No," he said amorously. "_This_ is my attempt at distraction." With that, he bent further to place a short, yet simmering kiss to the swell of her breast.

Elizabeth involuntarily shivered in his arms, the cord slipping from her fingers, requiring her to restart her efforts.

"William Turner," she laughingly chastised. "Wait until I've finished tying. And you know very well that I've always spent time with you on your birthday."

"Yes, but this is the first one where I could do this," he teased, placing another, more lingering kiss at the hollow of her throat.

"You won't get the better of me," she firmly declared, but the racing throb of her pulse against his lips belied her tone. 

"Will I not?" he countered challengingly. "Perhaps we shall see about that."

"There now," she said as she successfully completed her task and hastened to pull away before he could continue his torture. 

The couple looked down to admire the amulet as it sat against his tanned chest.

"It suits you," Elizabeth said, following the string with her finger and taking the stone into her hand. "My pirate."

Will leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose. "Do you suppose the Edmonds' dinner party is over?"

"Mmm, no," she replied, shaking her head. "It may last well into the night."

"Your father isn't likely to believe that," he said softly, toying with a lock of her hair. 

When Elizabeth made no reply, Will questioned cautiously, "Is this evening still how you've always wished it to be, or has our disagreement altered your opinion?"

"It still is," she assured him, tracing a finger across his lower lip and down his goatee. "Perfect love isn't always perfect in action. We are bound to have disagreements, Will. Even the happiest of couples do. We would have had more as children had you not always let me have my way. But, as tempting as that is, I don't want my way over yours – that is, not _all_ the time."

"I see," Will amusedly replied.

"And," she added, giving him a sultry look, "though we've never tried it before, I'm told that lovers' quarrels can have their advantages."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, in the very thrilling way in which we make up."

"By all means, we _must_ make up," Will enticed. "But how do we go about it? What shall I do first?"

"Well," Elizabeth began, distracted by his warm breath on her skin as he drew closer, "you might start by gently – " 

Her eyes fell shut as she was momentarily engrossed by his tender kiss at the juncture of her jaw and ear. After a pause, she continued on, "By gently stroking my ha – "

Her words transformed into an appreciative gasp as he took her earlobe into his mouth.

"Go on," Will whispered caressingly, his lips still against her ear.

"Or – or you might…" Elizabeth was finding it more and more difficult to think with his tongue softly tracing the contours of her ear. "You might tell me you love me," she finished weakly.

"I love you," Will obeyed, his accent thick in his desire. He pulled back to survey her face, her lips slightly agape, her breath quickened, her eyes clouded with desire.

"Perhaps your lips might find their way to my neck," she continued.

Will smiled. "They might," he said huskily, blazing a nibbling trail down her neck and across her collarbone. When she said nothing more, he paused in his efforts. "You've no further suggestions?"

"You're doing perfectly fine on your own," she murmured.

"Without your instruction," he teased between kisses, retracing his trail back up her neck, "how will I know how to please you?"

This seemed to bring Elizabeth back to conscious thought, and she drew slightly away from Will. "But it is _your_ birthday," she protested. "I should be the one pleasing _you_."

"This _is_ pleasing me," Will replied, pulling her back to him and softly nipping at her flesh.

Elizabeth immediately craned her neck to the side to aid his advance. "Very well, then."

Will's lips worked their way up her neck, across her jaw, and to her chin where he placed a light kiss before pulling back to look at her. "Have you no other requests?"

"I thought you might use your imagination."

"I'm not sure you would consent to my imaginings at this moment," Will answered.

"With talk like that, you'll never win my father's approval," she cheekily replied.

"Elizabe – "

But whatever Will meant to say was cut off of by her lips crashing against his.

* * *

AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. There was a tiny little bit of angst in there, but I wanted to show that Will & Elizabeth have a real relationship not just this completely idealistic cliché of "true love". So I thought it was important to introduce the idea that AWE is not the first, and will probably not be the only, time these two have problems and may not see eye to eye. Working through these little disagreements and how they overcome these issues is integral to making them a strong couple. Anyway, please review and let me know what you think. I love, love, love your reviews and very sincerely pay them heed. So please don't be silent.


	3. Love and Uncertainty, Part I

AN: This chapter contains a brief reference to an incident from my pre-CotBP story (_Longing_). It isn't necessary to read it to understand this chapter but, if you're curious, that's what's being referred to.

* * *

Contrary to the wishes of the young woman in question, Elizabeth's twenty-first birthday was to be nothing at all like Will's. Each year since their arrival in Port Royal, Weatherby hosted a ridiculously extravagant birthday affair for Elizabeth. After all, she was the Governor's only daughter, something akin to royalty on the island. Her position alone would have granted her significant status, but her looks, charm, and wit catapulted her to something of a legend to the surrounding populations. As she grew older, these birthday soirées became more about tradition and maintaining social connections then they did the actual birth of Elizabeth Swann. Nonetheless, it had always been this way and Weatherby was determined it would always remain so. Perhaps his daughter's standing in society was a bit lessoned and her reputation somewhat tarnished by her unfortunate interlude with pirates and her scandalous connection to a certain young blacksmith, but this was no reason to avoid polite society. His daughter had done nothing wrong and her charms and powers of persuasion were still undeniably strong. Weatherby was quite certain there was nothing to keep the people of Port Royal from adoring Elizabeth now as much as ever, and he was absolutely unwavering in his conviction that her birthday should be celebrated with all the pomp and gaiety that it always had been.

As a result, Will and Elizabeth found themselves at the Governor's Mansion, uncomfortably dressed in proper attire. Elizabeth, having just descended the stairs, stood possessively clutching onto him.

"Will," she sighed, her grip on his arm increasing. "I still wish we could celebrate my birthday in the same manner we did yours."

"As do I," he replied, smiling at the memory of the evening. "But – "

"This is a tedious way to spend an evening," she interrupted, "and, Father has kept me so busy with plans and preparations, I haven't seen you in days. It's intolerable."

As unhappy as she was to suffer such an evening as was before them, Will was even more so. He knew that learning to swim in these social circles was a necessary part of courting Elizabeth, but it would never be comfortable or easy for him, and he was certain he would never quite fit in amongst them.

"I know, love," Will commiserated, "but it's given me time to catch up on the work I've been neglecting. And, remember, we agreed that at times it's best to let your father have his way."

"I remember. I do. That's why I'm enduring this now," she said sincerely, letting go of his arm to stand before him. "I know you're gaining Father's good opinion, Will. I see it in his face when he speaks of you. I let my objections to this entire affair be known and made it perfectly clear that it was only because of you and your wishes that I agreed to it at all. He thinks you show good judgment."

"He said that?"

"Yes," Elizabeth laughingly avowed. "He says you calm me."

Will smiled, tucking a stray wisp of honey-colored hair behind her ear. "And do I?"

Elizabeth returned his smile, already lost in the depths of his dark eyes. "At times," she answered, at length. Her smile transforming from loving to rather iniquitous, she added, "Other times, though, your effect is quite the opposite. But since we are trapped here for the evening rather than more enjoyably engaged, we needn't talk about those 'other times' now."

Will reached out to her, his hands finding her waist and drawing her body as close to his as her full skirts would allow. "At least I'm invited to this affair. Do you remember the last Governor's Ball your father gave, shortly before you were taken?" Even now, his eyes hardened with anger as he said the later, thinking of what terror she must have felt and the harm that could have come to her in the company of such pirates. Thank God for Jack – a sentiment he would, of course, never repeat to the Captain should their paths ever happen to cross again.

Resting her hands against his chest, Elizabeth nodded happily. "I remember it well."

Will brought one of his hands up from her waist, placing it over hers. "This night I can spend at your side instead of in the stables."

"True," she said, moving her free hand to fiddle with the tendrils of his hair that were already escaping their tie, "you won't be in the stables – unless we were to escape there together." Her voice filled with excitement at the notion. "Or perhaps into the garden as before, only this time we'll meet on purpose."

"If only that were possible. Still, I'll take whatever time with you I can have, especially on your birthday. It will be all right, Elizabeth. You will see."

"But that's just it, Will. I'm afraid we won't be able to spend that much time together at all. That's the very nature of one of these events. Father will have me mingling with silly ladies here and dancing with foolish gentlemen there, and never in the arms of my beloved," she finished glumly.

"I'm sure I'll manage to occasionally steal you away," he answered playfully, gently pushing her pouted lower lip back to its proper place.

Elizabeth kissed the errant finger teasingly before delivering the information she knew would hurt him. "Will, Father thinks it improper for you to escort me into the ballroom tonight."

Will frowned slightly at the information, but she soldiered on.

"He says, unless I'm married or affianced, I should not be publicly presented with any man other them himself. You know I would readily fight against it, but you wish to – "

"It's all right," he said, softly stroking her check in an effort to show her he truly didn't mind. "I'll wait for you inside…..Somehow we'll manage."

His tenderness in this moment touched her heart, as it always did, and she reached up to kiss him, her heels giving her an advantage. Just as their lips were about to touch, the Governor walked into the room, clearing his throat warningly. Will and Elizabeth jumped apart like two children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

Remembering herself, Elizabeth walked toward him. "Father," she declared a little too brightly, "I'm almost ready to go in. I've only to make one final adjustment to my hair."

With an encouraging look to Will, she disappeared into her father's adjacent study where a sizable looking glass hung upon the wall.

Left alone with the Governor and the mountains of presents for Elizabeth that lined the foyer, Will attempted to make some sort of polite conversation before taking his leave into the crowd. However this proved awkward in the face of what her father had very nearly witnessed. Will inwardly berated himself, knowing he should have been more careful, but he was forever caught up by her and always seemed to be fighting for control of himself whenever she was that near to him. Even so, kissing her in the Mansion was always a dangerous thing and to do so in such an open room, with a ballroom full of influential guests just down the hallway who could at any moment walk in on them, was incredibly foolish.

"Sir, I – "

"It's all right, William," the Governor interjected. "No need to explain. Elizabeth has assured me of your prudence where she is concerned. I thank you for it."

Now it was Will's turn to clear his throat. "There's no need," he said awkwardly, shuddering to think of the Governor's reaction had he walked in but a few moments later – or happened to witness a portion of the private celebration Elizabeth had given him on his birthday. He really must get a better hold of himself but, heaven help him, she was intoxicating!

Weatherby continued on, oblivious to the young man's wayward thoughts. "I know my daughter can be quite headstrong when it comes to getting what she wants. I am certain this business of refusing all chaperones was her idea and not yours."

Will wasn't sure how to answer such a statement. "Governor, I – "

"At any rate, I do believe you have her best interests at heart."

"I love her, sir," Will frankly confessed.

Weatherby laughed. "No doubt, my boy. No doubt," he said jovially. "It would take a great love to do what you've done for her – or to even be standing here tonight."

Will looked at him questioningly.

"I know my daughter thinks I'm entirely in the dark when it comes to such matters, but I'm not ignorant of the challenges you face in this match. I know what people say about you, and I know it not to be true, otherwise I wouldn't let you near Elizabeth. I know you're not interested in her inheritance, and you did not take advantage of her while at sea, as some have suggested. I know you to be a better man than _that_," Weatherby said.

Bolstering himself for the crux of the conversation that all fathers must at some time have with their daughters' beaux, he continued. "Still, she is my daughter and her welfare and wellbeing will always take precedence over yours. She can be willful and impossibly persuasive; in my whole life, I've never been able to tell that girl no. At times, she is entirely improper, but she is mine, and I love her. Whatever errors or transgressions she might make, I will forgive because she is my daughter. However, such luxuries do not extend to you – or any one else for that matter – especially where she is concerned. If I were to ever hear of indiscretions between yourself and Elizabeth, I would hold you personally responsible. "

Will bore the brunt of this declaration admirably, knowing he would react in much the same way if he ever had a daughter of his own, and the very fact that such a conversation was taking place must mean that the Governor took his relationship with Elizabeth seriously. This was progress, indeed. "I understand sir," he answered solemnly.

"Now," Weatherby said in a much more lighthearted manner, "let us forget these matters and speak of more pleasant things, such as the evening at hand. I know I have you to thank for Elizabeth's willingness to attend."

Though his statement was true, Will avoided an affirmation. Rising in the Governor's esteem at Elizabeth's expense was not something that interested him in the least. "Elizabeth knows these events are important to your position in the community."

"Yes," the Governor answered, "but I'm well aware she loathes these affairs."

Elizabeth walked back into the foyer at that moment, immediately catching the eye of the two men who loved her. Before she reached their side, Weatherby whispered to Will, "Stay near her, if you can. She'll need you tonight. She has always found polite society rather stifling and, since childhood, you seem to be the only thing that comforts and pleases her."

Will smiled at the older man. "I will try my best, sir."

Elizabeth looked curiously back and forth between Will and her father. "What is it you two are speaking of?" she asked suspiciously.

"I'll see you inside, love," Will answered with a wink, going in to join the party.

* * *

Two hours later, Will stood alone in a deserted hallway where he had been able to take momentary respite. In the time that had passed since their discreetly separate arrivals, the couple had managed to share exactly one dance and two very brief conversations. The remainder of the evening, Elizabeth had been unwillingly passed from partner to partner – when she was not being drawn into meaningless exchanges with people she cared little for. Will spent this time largely off to himself. Every now and then, someone would engage him in conversation, some with less disdain than others. However, no matter how honorable their intentions might have been at the start, they would quickly discover they had nothing in common with this blacksmith, the conversation would soon wane, and they would eventually make their escape.

If Will had learned one thing in the course of the evening, it was that he did not belong amongst these people and he never would. There was a time when he thought someday he could fit it; if he just worked hard enough and became successful at his craft, they would accept him. But now he knew it wasn't so. _J. Brown's Blacksmith Shop _had already become _Turner Blacksmithery_, and business was undeniably booming. He had more now then ever before in his lifetime, and it was only the beginning of what he could accomplish. Yet, what was monumental success and great wealth to Will was nothing to these people and, try as he might, he would never find a place in society – not that he wanted one but, for Elizabeth, he would do anything. Of course, she also claimed not to belong in polite society, but that was not the case. True, she didn't want it. Truer still, she hated it. But she _could_ belong, in a way that Will never would.

These thoughts so consumed and troubled his mind, he did not notice a flurry of moment to his right and was taken by complete and utter surprise when a hand reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into the darkened sitting room he stood beside and deftly closing the door behind him.

The room was completely black, the heavy curtains pulled across the windows barring even the slightest hint of moonlight. He was about to call out to his assailant when the heady scent of lavender and vanilla teased his nostrils, giving the perpetrator away.

"Will," Elizabeth sighed, wrapping her arms about his waist and cuddling into him, her head resting against his chest. "Take me away from here," she pleaded.

The distraught desperation in her voice pricked his heart and he immediately set forth to soothe her, rubbing gentle circles across her back. "What's happened, my love?" he asked tenderly, placing a soft kiss to her temple. "What is the matter?"

"I can't stand it a moment longer. I _have_ to get away."

"I know what you mean, darling," Will lovingly responded. "But it _is_ your party."

"Oh!" Elizabeth scoffed. "These people won't even notice if I'm gone."

"The piles of gifts up and down the hallways say otherwise," he wryly replied.

"Those are just for show, because they have to, because they can outdo their neighbor with the more extravagant gift. It has nothing to do with 'Miss Elizabeth Swann'," she said, exaggerating her name contemptuously. "And I honestly don't mind because I care nothing for them either. I want to be with _you_."

He placed another kiss to her temple, bending to whisper in her ear. "You are with me, quite close to me actually," he teased, pressing her more tightly to him.

"But I want to be alone with you."

"We are alone," he continued on playfully, in an effort to cheer her. "Wickedly alone. Or was that your plan all along?"

She pushed back away from him, proclaiming in frustration, "I want to be _me_! This is _not_ me! I can't be _me_ here in this house."

Will could not see her tears in the darkness, but he could hear them in her voice. "Shh," he murmured, taking her back into his arms. "All right, love. Where do you wish to go?"

Elizabeth sniffled. "Into the garden."

"Then we'll go," he promised.

Knowing the layout of this, her sitting room, better then he did, Elizabeth expertly navigated the darkness to pull back the curtains and open the patio doors so they could go outside. Silently standing by the door, she waited for him to reach her side before she would go out.

Will came over to her and paused a moment to softly brush away her tears. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he held her close to his side as he wordlessly led them into the garden.

Bathed in the moonlight and the gentle breeze of this comparatively mild late spring night, Will loosened his hold on her, pulling back to see her face. "Elizabeth – "

"It's all right," she assured him. "I'm better now. I just had to get away. Sometimes….I just have to get away. I was tried of pretending. I couldn't do it any longer."

Will nodded. "Pretending can be difficult," he said somberly, looking away from her and wondering over to a distant piece of shrubbery. "It can be lovely, but it always comes to an end. As you said, eventually one party grows tired of it, and it must end…..I'm afraid pretending, though indescribably lovely, can be indescribably painful."

Elizabeth's brow unconsciously furrowed at his cryptic words. "Will?" she questioned, coming to stand behind him.

She had hoped her increased nearness would induce him to confide in her, but he remained silent, still looking solemnly into the distance.

"Will," she began again, concern evident in her voice, "what – what do you mean?"

He turned to face her, but failed to close the distance between them. "You were not the only one to find this evening troubling," he gravely replied.

"What – I – I don't understand," she said, shaking her head in confusion. "What happened?"

"Perhaps my eyes were opened."

* * *

AN#2: As you can tell, this chapter is a bit different from the rest, and I apologize for leaving you on such a cliffhanger. Since this is a special kind of undertaking, with short, mini-stories, each chapter representing a certain transition in time and a slight progression of their relationship, I had wanted to keep the events of this one evening together as a single chapter. However, it grew to be so long that it just became impossible and I had to break it up into two parts. I hope you don't mind a bit of angst here, but I felt it was an issue that would come up at some point in their relationship. I should have the second half up in a few days.

Thank you to all those who've reviewed!


	4. Love and Uncertainty, Part II

AN: Thanks for enduring the wait! Here's a little recap:

_Will turned to face Elizabeth, but failed to close the distance between them. "You were not the only one to find this evening troubling," he gravely replied._

_"What – I – I don't understand," she said, shaking her head in confusion. "What happened?"_

_"Perhaps my eyes were opened."_

"To what?" Elizabeth asked uneasily.

"It doesn't matter," he evaded, suddenly attempting a smile. "Everything is all right. I'm sorry I've upset you."

"Will, tell me," she pleaded, growing more and more apprehensive as whatever was upsetting him was clearly of greater importance than he was letting on. Worse still was the fact that, in his troubled state, rather than confiding in her he was closing himself off. "Tell me what you mean."

Seeing her turmoil, Will now wished that he had remained silent on the subject. "It's nothing for you to worry over, dearest," he gently replied, hoping to ease her mind.

"No," she said firmly. With growing conviction, she added, "What concerns you concerns me. Always."

Will couldn't bring himself to turn away from her, but he avoided her gaze as he brokenly confessed, "I….I fear one day I will lose you….You'll realize….and I'll lose you."

Preparing herself for whatever effrontery had befallen Will at the ball, Elizabeth was astounded to hear the truth of what was weighing so heavily on his mind. Taking a step closer to him, she carefully studied his distressed features and saddened eyes. "I believe you mean that," she incredulously said.

"I do," he professed sincerely. "It's a fear I've always held somewhere in the back of my mind, but tonight….Elizabeth, tonight served to validate every last one of my concerns."

Elizabeth was stunned by his confession, without a clue as to what had brought it on, but clearly this was a crisis in their relationship that needed to be resolved immediately. She hastily tore her eyes away from her anguished beau to the brightly lit windows of the crowded ballroom only two doors down. The last thing they needed at the moment was a further distraction. Glancing back to Will, she warmly told him, "Obviously this is serious. Come, walk with me," she beckoned. "I believe we could both stand to get away a bit further."

She took his hand and he willingly obliged, allowing her to lead him across the garden, beyond a line of shrubbery, through a thicket of brush, to a lone bench which sat beneath her favorite tree. This particular palm marked the half-way point on the oft traveled route of escape they had used as children. The path - if it could be called that, for it was marked with neither dirt nor stone - wound its way behind the mansion, across the grounds, past the servants' entrance, to the street below. The two had wiled away many an hour upon that bench after returning from one adventure or another that neither one of them was supposed to be taking.

Reaching their destination, Will released her hand, and the two remained awkwardly standing in front of their tree. At any other time he would have wanted nothing more than to curl up with her on the bench and reveal in this stolen moment alone, but tonight there was a tension that hung between them in the air caused by words that desperately needed to be spoken.

When it became clear to her that no further divulgation was forthcoming, Elizabeth broke the silence. "Will, what's brought this about?" she asked in dismay. "Whatever makes you think I will leave you? Do you believe me to be dissatisfied?" With hurt evident in her voice, she added, "Do you doubt my love for you?"

Will took a step closer to her. "No, Elizabeth," he tenderly replied, running a caressing finger fleetingly across her check before turning back toward the house. "It isn't you I doubt, it's me. The luxury surrounding us this evening, the finery I see in everything and everyone but myself….I can never live up to it. The gifts that line the hallways for you on this single birthday are likely more than I could provide in a lifetime."

Turning back to face her, he continued, "Your father has had doubts about our match from the very beginning, and I never resented his objections because I understand them well. He wanted better for you, so much more than I can offer. He puts on a cheerful facade to please you, but I'm certain he remains convinced that a union with me would be an enormous step down for you – and I join him in that belief…..Elizabeth, you deserve so much more than I can give you."

"Do you think me as shallow as that?" she protested. "I don't want those things. I care nothing for all this 'finery'. I never asked for it. I never sought it out."

"I know you think you mean that," Will argued, "but you don't know what it's like to go without, to have nothing – and you should never have to. _I_ don't want to be the one who shows you."

"You are right. I don't know what it is to be poor," she conceded, "but I do know what it is to have more wealth than any young girl could ever have need for, and all it has done is keep me from everything I've wanted." Bitterly, she added, "It seems it will ever continue to do so."

"But it is more than just a matter of riches, Elizabeth," Will reasoned. "This is your home. These are the people you grew up with, the people you will continue to keep company with throughout your life. This is your world, and I could see tonight that I will never properly fit into it."

Elizabeth regarded him with astonishment. "No, Will. This is _not_ my world. _You_ are my world. How can you not know that?...You say you fear you will lose, someday I will leave you. Tell me, where would I go? There is no where I could run to that I would not carry you with me. You are my heart."

"Elizabeth, I…." Will began, tenderness and shame coloring his voice. "It is just that, from the moment I first laid eyes on you, I was certain that no man – lest of all myself – could ever be worthy of you."

She smiled softly. "Well, you're wrong." Bridging the remaining distance between them, she took his hands into hers. "You say you don't doubt my love for you but, darling, if that was really the case, you wouldn't have these fears."

When Will made no reply, his expression remorseful, Elizabeth squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I suppose I ought to be affronted," she continued with a hint of teasing in her voice, "that after three months of courtship – not to mention years spent chasing after you – you still doubt my affections, but I care for you far too much to let pride stand between us. So I will tell you again of my fierce and ardent love for you until I am certain you fully believe it."

"Elizabeth, you don't have to – "

"No," she interrupted, her tone deeply serious. "I want to tell you this….Perhaps I spend too much time telling you of how I _want_ you and not enough time telling you of how I _need_ you, but one is no less than the other. I just always thought you knew that."

"I do, love. Truly I do," Will avowed. "I'm in the wrong for making you believe otherwise."

"I shall tell you anyway," she said, playing at his fingers, "so you will never again imagine you could _ever_ lose me. I would never leave you, Will. I can't even conceive of the notion. You know better than anyone, I can hardly tear myself away from you at the end of each night. My only thought is how to be closer to you, to have still more of you – and hang anyone who tries to stop me!"

Will's soft laughter was music to her ears, and she released his hands to gently touch his face. "I could never, never walk away. Since I first met you, you've been my constant, the one person I could always depend upon to be there for me – no matter how silly the concern or how impossible the scheme. No one knows me as you do. You have always been, and ever will be, a part of me. You are my life," she tenderly disclosed, allowing her hands to slip from his face down to his shoulders.

"And this love I have for you, it is not a fleeting emotion that time or circumstances, and certainly not riches," she added in a whispered tone of disdain, "will ever change. I will love you forever, without end. No matter what happens. No matter what obstacles we face. Down the line, a week from now, a month from now, a year from now, a decade from now…..when we're old and grey, till we die, and beyond. I will love you _always_. I promise you that."

Will's arms wrapped about her waist, holding her close to him. "And I promise you the same, Elizabeth," he earnestly imparted, unshed tears sparkling in his eyes. "Forever."

"That is the strength of our love," she whispered, tenderly kissing his cheek. "It will last. It will endure. In the face of anything, it _will_ endure."

"Anything," Will fervently agreed.

He bent to kiss her lips, an official sealing of their vows, but she pulled back, having one last point to make.

"And if we never have that extravagant house, full of fancy dresses and a staff of eager servants, I don't care," Elizabeth firmly stated. "I won't feel the loss of it. Your kiss, your touch, your love are all that matter to me. I'll want for nothing. I will truly have everything. _You_ are _everything_ to me."

"And you are to me."

"And so we shall be everything to each other," she playfully declared, snuggling up to him.

After a long moment of simply enjoying holding one another, Elizabeth lifted her head from his chest, softly asking, "Is it all right now? Are _we_ all right now?"

Will moved his hands from her waist to lovingly cup her face. "Yes," he said, kissing one eye and then the other.

"No more talk of me ever leaving you, or of you not fitting in. We, neither of us do. We belong _together_, with each other. That is our only home." She paused, mischief seeping back into her voice as she added, "So now are you certain sure that I'm madly in love with you?"

Will slid his hands down Elizabeth's back, embracing her tightly. "I am."

She cuddled closer to him, breathing in his scent. "I would hate to have you endure such thoughts again….I think I should work to further convince you," she murmured, burrowing her face into his neck and placing soft, moist kisses on his warm skin.

Will closed his eyes, unable to prevent a sigh from escaping his lips. "Are you seducing me, Elizabeth?" he asked, every hint of past concern in his voice replaced by love and desire.

"I'm trying to," she replied, continuing in her assault, "but apparently not succeeding if you have to ask."

"On the contrary, you've succeeded quite well. I was thoroughly seduced the moment I laid eyes on you in that dress." Her felt her smile against his neck before she took a step back so that he might properly admire her.

"Do you like it?" she asked happily.

Will looked her up and down, his eyes deepening with pleasure at what he saw. "Very much," he answered, pulling her back to him.

"Ah," she said teasingly, "so you wish the seduction to continue."

Her lips found his neck once more, now sucking and lightly nipping at his flesh. Will's hands involuntarily tightened their grip on her waist as he fought the urge to do a great number of things that were much too dangerous to be engaged in this close to the manor. "Elizabeth," he implored, his breathing already shallow and quickened. "We shouldn't -"

"Will," she said between kisses, "we are far from prying eyes." Adding, in a conspiratorial whisper, "And how many times before have you kissed me in the garden? I remember quite a few."

"Yes," he gruffly replied, vainly struggling to quiet his desire, "but not as I'm about to kiss you now."

He felt the excited intake of her breath at his statement and knew some means of distraction was immediately necessary. Her 'seduction' had been an absolute success and Will doubted his resolve at keeping things chaste if she continued her advances. Nevertheless, Elizabeth appeared determined to tempt him into endangering her honor and potentially ruining his hopes of winning the Governor's approval. Or perhaps she didn't realize the effect she had on him? But he rather doubted that; she seemed to enjoy bringing him to the brink of self-control.

"Elizabeth," he offered, "you've yet to ask about my present for you. You won't find it amongst the others."

This worked to arouse her curiosity, and her lips stilled, pulling away from his skin. Knowing that he meant to distract her but, nonetheless, intrigued by what his gift might be, Elizabeth removed herself from Will, allowing him a chance to collect himself.

"I told you," she said, regarding him innocently, "I need nothing, save you….But since you've brought it, I shall accept it."

Will laughed. "A touching declaration."

"You know I'm only teasing, Will."

"I do, and you _will_ have your gift, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait until tomorrow to receive it."

"Why?" she inquired suspiciously, certain there was more to this then he was letting on.

"Because, love," he said playfully, feeling it safe to at least take her hand, "it's best if I wait until we're at the smithy."

"Why?" she persisted.

"Because it is of a….private nature – and you won't wheedle it out of me, so there's no point in trying," he warned, nevertheless enjoying their game.

"Then we'll just have to go to the smithy now," she said with a raised eyebrow, knowing full well she had won. She had upped the ante, and was certain he would not be willing to raise the stakes so high.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You know I can't take you there now."

"So you've no choice but to tell me what it is then, for you know I'm far too impatient to wait."

"No," Will laughed, shaking his head. "I will remain close-mouthed."

"Will you?" Elizabeth enticed, looking at him predatorily as she took a step closer. Glancing down at his aforementioned closed mouth, she murmured, "Perhaps I can alter that situation."

Will was more than content this evening to play her prey and, he thought, as she pressed herself against him and prepared to end his current state of locked lips, he would even allow himself to be easily captured.

"Oh!"

Their attention was turned suddenly to the startled feminine gasp behind them. Spinning about, they discovered Elizabeth handmaid regarding them with a look of shock and embarrassment at what she'd observed and now interrupted.

"I'm sorry, miss. I just stepped out for a breath of air," she said, indicating the servants' entrance in the distance, beyond the bushes. "I had no notion you'd be out here 'stead of at your party."

Elizabeth smiled, well pleased at this turn of events. "It's all right, Estrella," she said happily. Turning a flirtatious look on Will, her eyes never leaving his, she added, "Will was just taking me to the smithy to give me my birthday present."

Will raised his eyebrow at her, knowing what she was about. He wondered if she realized that imparting this scandalous information to a third party was a dangerous means of compelling him to bring her there. Though he'd never had one, he certainly had experience _being_ one, and was thus well aware of how servants gossiped.

"I see," Estrella responded, reading more debauchery into the situation then was actually present. Observing the way her mistress and the handsome blacksmith looked upon each other, she'd suspected for quite a while that it was only a matter of time before their relationship led to improprieties. She'd always thought their longstanding affection was sweet, and protecting the young lady's virtue was not her concern….but the Governor. She shuddered to think what the Governor would say. The entire household would be in an uproar. "Are you sure that's wise, miss, at this late hour?"

Will smiled. "I believe Estrella's right, Elizabeth. It is late, and someone at the party is also likely to miss you."

"Nonsense," she dismissed, disinclined to let go of the idea. "No one will notice."

"Your father surely will," he countered.

"No, because Estrella," Elizabeth boldly declared, "is just about to inform him that I'm indisposed with a sudden, terrible headache and, so as not to disrupt our little affair, I've quietly retired to me room for the evening and will likely be fast asleep by the time everyone's gone home – so there'll be no point in checking on me."

Will found her cunning truly disarming. It really was an ingenious plan and, if they weren't such moral people, her criminal mind could easily afford them numerous opportunities to engage in all manner of inappropriate activities. Unfortunately, he feared that was already her maid's assumption.

"Miss," Estrella attempted, "the Governor would be furious with me if he discovered – "

"Oh, that's really a shame," Elizabeth interrupted, "for I find I wouldn't need you at all tomorrow and you'd be free to do as you please…if only I could get away tonight."

"The whole day to myself?...I – I suppose I could – "

"Certainly you can. My father will be so distracted with his guests he'll hardly take the trouble to question you, and no one will be the wiser. If we all remain discreet, he need never know."

"Yes, miss," she briefly curtsied before hurrying off to inform the Governor, her mind spinning with excitement over what she would do the next day.

Will smiled at his beloved, wondering if she handled _him_ so easily. This was madness but, much like her father, he was powerless to deny her. He held out his arm. "It appears we're stealing off to the smithy?"

"We are," she said, promptly taking it and hurrying him away.

* * *

Reaching their destination, Elizabeth pulled Will inside and barred the door behind them. The room was indecently dark, the only light coming from the streaks of moonlight shining down from the windows high above which he'd left open to allow ventilation.

"Now, you find me here a day early," she said alluringly, walking into the shadows where he stood facing her. "What sort of depravity did you have in mind? Tell me, what is this exceedingly private gift you could only give me within the seclusion of the smithy? I am quite eager to receive it."

Will opened his mouth to answer, but she interrupted him.

"I can see from the look in your eyes," she teased, "that it's necessary to warn you, sir, my righteous dignity is very easily offended."

Will laughed, drawing close to her as he whispered, "Which is precisely why you insisted we come alone, in the dark of night."

"Exactly," she agreed, snaking her arms about his neck. "The offense would be if anyone were to see us."

With that, she lunged for his lips and ravenously kissed him, a kiss which Will readily returned, as he had been fighting the impulse all night. His hands entangled in her hair as he deepened the kiss, but he found that the longer and more intensely he kissed her, rather than satisfying his desire for her, it merely served to increase it, and he ended the kiss before any pretended indiscretion became real.

"Elizabeth," he said breathlessly, stepping back from her even as she moved to continue the kiss, "this wasn't merely a pretext. I really do have a gift for you."

She seemed to be appeased by this and accepted his distance, though reluctantly. Will crossed the room to his small table, lighting a candle to provide better illumination of their surroundings.

"Your present's beside my bed," he informed her.

Her eyebrow rose at this, but she said nothing, silently watching as he disappeared from the room to retrieve it. He returned carrying a large, oblong box that he placed on the table before her.

"Happy birthday, Elizabeth."

Her eyes danced with excited speculation, pausing to smile at him before bending to see what was inside. Opening the box, she gasped, immediately looking back up to him, delight abundant in her features.

Throwing her arms around his neck, she squealed, "Oh, Will! Does this mean you'll teach me?"

"Yes, love," he laughed, returning her embrace. "When have I ever been able to refuse you? I always intended to teach you from the moment you first asked, but I wasn't prepared to let on till I had this finished."

"You made this _especially_ for me?" she asked in wonder, slipping from his arms to better regard the weapon.

"Yes, with some modifications. I made it lighter," he said, lifting the sword from its box and placing it delicately into her open hands. "The hilt is a slightly smaller to better suit your hand. Unlike the everyday swords I make, much like you, it's somewhat more ornamented," he indicated with a wink. "There's a bit of gold filigree laid into the handle. It's reserved for my very finest customers, but I think you'll suffice."

"It's beautiful, Will," Elizabeth said, now gripping the sword by its handle, her free hand upon the sheath. "May I?"

Will nodded, watching her carefully, as she was yet unaccustomed to handling actual swords. She held the blade up in front of her, marveling at the contrast of something so beautiful yet equally as deadly.

"Of course, we'll have to work our way up to this," he said, gently taking the sword from her and replacing its sheath before returning it safely to its box. After deftly stowing the real sword, he bent to retrieve its wooden counterpart from a nearby chair. Holding it up for her inspection, he added, "This is what we'll be starting with."

Elizabeth frowned slightly, but understood the sense of it. She briefly took the wooden sword from him, turning it in her hands before setting it aside on the table and wrapping her arms around Will.

"Thank you. I know the hours this must have taken," she said sweetly. Lightly kissing his lips, she flippantly added, "I'm very glad you're so unable to refuse me."

Stepping back away from him, she picked up her wooden sword. "Have you one for yourself, as well?"

Will nodded. "I'll need one so we can practice together before moving on to the real thing."

Elizabeth smiled. "You're very good to me, Will. You say you could never give me enough, but you've already given me so much – everything I desire." Gazing at him with naked lust in her eyes, she amended, "Well, very nearly."

"Elizabeth?" Will questioned her innuendo, telling himself he must have mistaken her meaning…..And yet, the way she looked at him said otherwise.

"Shall we practice now?" she asked innocently, knowing full well her boldness had left him somewhat taken aback. It seemed Will was ever surprised to discover that she fervently returned his amorous feelings, but it was a fact he would have to get used to. She saw no harm in the candid admission of her desire for him to make love to her. As that was yet impossible, she might as well channel her energies into fighting at swords, with the added advantage of learning how to defend herself should the need ever re-arise.

Will laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You are positively determined to drive your father to have me locked up," he accused in jest. "It's well past midnight. We shouldn't even be here right now. There is certainly not time for a proper lesson, no matter how you might entice. I'm not prepared to undo the progress I've made with your father."

"Have you, Will? Why? What did he say?"

"That he knows I truly love you and he believes my intentions to be honorable," Will proudly informed her. "But, if he should ever find out of anything untoward happening between us, I'll be forced into indentured servitude on the first ship heading to the colonies."

"He said that?" Elizabeth asked in astonishment.

"Not in so many words, but the general meaning was there."

She giggled. "I'm sorry, Will. I can't imagine such a talk with my father. I promise not to press you for a lesson now; I'd certainly have to wear more sensible clothing, anyhow. But perhaps you might show me one simple skill to wet my appetite."

Will lightly kissed her little nose. "Very well. I'll show you the proper way to hold a sword."

"But, Will, I already know _that_."

"Indulge me this once," he requested.

Elizabeth entrapped her lower lip between her teeth. "I'll resist the urge to comment on that. All right, Mr. Turner, how do I _properly_ hold a sword?"

Will grinned at her teasing. "Show me how you would hold it."

Elizabeth did as commanded, holding out the wooden sword and taking what she assumed to be an appropriate fighting stance. Will's amusement at the sight proved too much for him and he couldn't stifle the laugh that erupted from his throat.

Her mouth fell open in indignation. "William Turner! I can't have done it _that_ badly."

"I'm sorry, dearest," he said, his laughter ceasing, but amusement still thick in his voice, "but if you could only see the picture you make, dressed in all your finery, trying to look fierce wielding your little wooden sword."

She gave him a warning look, but the smile playing on her lips belied her crossness.

"All right," he said, endeavoring to behave. "You're holding it up too high, and your grip is far too weak; an opponent could easily knock the sword from your hands."

Elizabeth tried to make the adjustments Will had suggested, but it was clear from the look on his face that she still wasn't quite correct in her stance.

"Here, let me show you," he said, sidling up behind her, her back pressed lightly into his chest. Lifting her arm with his own, he instructed, "Hold your arm like this."

Such a vantage point left his lips mere inches from her neck. Everything about her, from her scent, to the sight of her, to the feel of her in his arms, assaulted his senses and awakened his yearning for her.

"I believe I'm going to enjoy these lessons," Elizabeth murmured, nuzzling herself against him.

Will nodded, looking suddenly flushed. "So shall I."

* * *

AN: Never fear the cliffie! I always deal in happy endings.

I'm loving your reviews!


	5. Moonlight Engagement

Since the evening of her birthday, when Will had given Elizabeth her sword, she insisted on spending every available minute at the smithy with him learning the skills to fight as masterfully as her beloved. While work and the more mundane concerns of life still had their claim upon him, Will truly enjoyed teaching Elizabeth and readily consented. He found her eager enthusiasm endearing and, in truth, she was an excellent student, a quick learner gifted with a natural athleticism and talent. She progressed daily in her sword skills despite the fact that, as they both had guessed, the sort of close student-teacher contact such an endeavor necessitated proved incredibly distracting to both Will and Elizabeth, and their lessons often ended with swords dropped to the ground and their hands upon each other – which, if Will was honest with himself, was at least half the reason he so often put aside his work to teach her.

Still, as lovely as their lessons were, he had more pressing matters on his mind. For four months, Will had been doing all he could to expand his business, amass his profits, and grow in the esteem of the governor, all to prepare for the inevitable moment now before him. The task was looming, as his entire future rested on handling this properly, but somehow – in what he could only assume to be a moment of utter insanity – Weatherby had granted Will his consent to ask his daughter to marry him. What happened next was a blur to them both yet, three weeks after Will had confessed his fear that someday Elizabeth would leave him, he found her joyfully, tearfully agreeing to be his wife.

They spent the afternoon following Will's proposal at the Mansion with Weatherby discussing general plans for their future and a tentative date for their wedding. While their betrothal was yet new, Will had been considering their future life together and making plans accordingly since the very day she professed her love for him. Before he would ever ask for her hand, he had to be certain he could amply provide for her and, while he felt he could, such a thing would take time. Will was absolutely determined to give Elizabeth a proper home to live in – granted, something quite less than the grandeur she was used to, but a decent, respectable home all the same. As he was set on doing so without the financial assistance of Elizabeth's father, all three agreed that a relatively long engagement was the best course. This arrangement had the added appeal of allowing Elizabeth and the Governor ample time to plan a lavish wedding such as Port Royal had never seen. While Elizabeth was generally immune to such garish displays, a young woman's wedding was something altogether different. She may have spent her youth dreaming of adventure and pirates, but even she took time now and then to imagine her wedding day. Now, with Will as the groom, she was more than willing to give over to her father's wishes and have her wedding be a perfectly beautiful display of love at its finest for the entire island to see.

All of this planning, however, left the couple little time that day to actually be together enjoying their moment. Consequently, that evening at Elizabeth's request, Will stood in the dark of night on their secluded stretch of beach awaiting her arrival. He'd tried to warn his fiancée that traipsing about alone in the middle of the night could be dangerous, and at the very least she should allow him to meet her at the manor and accompany her to the beach, but she insisted that she could sneak away more easily on her own. It seemed she was right, for he could now spy her unmistakable figure coming to him across the sand.

"I told you all would be well," she happily boasted as she closed the distance between them. "And no one suspects a thing. I've only been doing this since the age of twelve."

Will smiled, reaching out to her and enfolding her within his embrace. "Elizabeth," he sighed, burying his nose in her hair and holding her close.

"I can hardly believe it's true," she said, pulling back to look into the deep brown eyes that held the power to capture her very soul. "I'm going to be your _wife_."

A wide smile spread across his face. "Yes," Will giddily replied, hugging her fiercely. "All these years I thought it impossible. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine being able to call you my wife."

"But we're living a dream, Will," she whispered into his ear. "Better than a dream. All those years I fantasized that you might one day call me 'Elizabeth' instead of 'Miss Swann'. Now you will call me 'Mrs. Turner' and I shall call you 'husband'. It's far better than a dream."

Will lifted Elizabeth off her feet and the two broke out into mad laughter as he spun her about in a circle before gathering her fully into his arms and gently sitting them both down upon the sand.

"Do you know what my life would've been without you, Elizabeth, if you hadn't pulled me from the ocean?" he asked, suddenly growing serious. "I was a penniless orphan with nothing and no one to call my own. It's because of you and you alone that I was afforded the upbringing and position in the community I had."

"You're an excellent craftsman," Elizabeth answered, scooting closer to him. "But it is still less than you deserved. Ideally, you would've grown up right beside me – just down the hall, I think."

Will laughed. "And can you imagine the misdeeds that would've come from that? No, your father was right to put me out of the house shortly after we arrived in Port Royal, as soon as the suitable position was found. It would have been too great a provocation growing into manhood with you just down the hall."

"Oh, come now, Will," Elizabeth smiled. "We were only children. Though I'm positive I loved you from the very beginning, you couldn't possibly have had _that_ sort of feeling for me then."

"Perhaps not quite then," Will conceded, "but a year or two down the line. Men are different from woman, Elizabeth," he said softly stroking her cheek. Playfully, he added, "You'd be shocked at times to know what goes through our minds."

"Would I?" she countered, placing her hand upon his chest. "In any case, you are a gentleman, Will."

"I am a blacksmith and, it seems, at least half pirate."

"Yes, you are that," she appreciatively agreed.

"Perhaps it's that bit of pirate that brings me into this seclusion with you in the dead of night."

Something in his tone caused Elizabeth to believe that Will thought his conduct dishonorable, and she quickly set about to rid him of that misconception. "Perhaps," she replied. "But it's the gentleman in you that sees to it we're merely talking. Such virtue as that cannot be passed in bloodlines. You are my gentleman pirate. I cannot imagine a better thing."

Will reached for her, drawing her to his side and wrapping an arm around her. "Even after you pulled me from the water, Elizabeth, you rescued me a second time. You say it was I who saved you from the pirates, but you were the one who did the rescuing. You freed me from the rigid, piteous life I might have had. Never knowing or embracing my true heritage. Never marrying or having children, for who could replace you in my heart? Always pining for you, longing for you from afar. Merely going through the paces of a sad, cold, lonely existence, hating the man blessed enough to call you his wife. Never knowing what it is to be loved. Never truly living. From all this, you saved me."

"And what of the many ways you've been my hero? You did more than simply rescue me from pirates, Will," Elizabeth asserted. "You risked everything for me – your freedom, your very life. You loved me to a degree that no one else ever has, and you saved me from an existence just as terrible. Sometimes I wonder that I didn't go mad, trapped in a world I loathed, destined to marry a man I didn't love and would resent and over the years grow to hate. I was just an ornament, a marionette forced to play a role not of my own choosing. If you hadn't floated into my world, I would have forever been without someone who truly knows me. I would've been without love, without passion, without life – a true, free life."

Elizabeth slipped her fingers inside the open fold of his shirt, lovingly stroking his skin as she continued. "You've let me be me, Will, and loved me for exactly who I am. And though I'm certain at times you must think me impulsive and brazen, you never try to hold me back or keep me in 'my place'. I can always come to you and know I will find love and acceptance and….home. You are my home, and when I'm with you I feel as if I'm spreading my wings and flying free, for the first time truly living."

"And you are my home, Elizabeth. You've opened up the world to me and shown me there will never be boundaries where you and I are concerned, no rules we can't break, no lines we can't cross to be together. I think I was as much a puppet of a man as you were, playing by rules I didn't create, bound by the idea of propriety even in the face of its hypocrisy and unfairness. You woke me up. You gave me a reason to fight, a reason to try, a reason to break those chains and be real, be free, be myself. And now there are no limits, no bridges we can't cross. Together, we are strong, we are whole. We have everything."

"I'm so happy, Will," Elizabeth laughed. Leaning in close to him, she whispered, "I wonder how I ever lived in a world where I couldn't do this."

She tenderly pressed her lips to his and they gave themselves over to a kiss that expressed all the love, passion, and joy that mere words could not. After several minutes of enjoying each other, Will gently broke the kiss, shifting Elizabeth in his arms so she sat in front of him, his legs on either side of her. He pulled her back to lean against his chest and the two sat lovingly curled up together watching the ripples on the ocean in the moonlight.

"Will," she murmured at length, "my _husband_. Oh, I love the sound of it!"

"As do I," he replied, placing a kiss to her temple as she cuddled her face against his neck. "I shall never tire of hearing it."

Content to merely hold one another, they fell into a comfortable silence once more, Will running his hands up and down her shoulders and arms.

"Just think, Will," Elizabeth said, turning about in his embrace so she now sat facing him, "once we're married, every night will be just like this one."

A low chuckle escaped him. "Well, not exactly," he quipped. "I prefer to think at least some of them you will be a bit less clothed and we'll be much more amorously engaged."

She gave him a pert look, pushing him back into the sand. Will reached out and grabbed Elizabeth as he fell, bringing her down with him, her body tumbling onto his. When she made no move to slide off of him, he wrapped his arms about her waist, pressing her to him.

"All the days and nights I spent wishing for you to so much as look at me," he said, his voice a husky whisper, "and now I hold you in my arms."

"I'll look at you now," she replied, slowly rubbing her nose against his, "all night if you wish, with love in my eyes….or with desire. Which do you prefer?"

"I prefer both, as you're looking at me now."

She moved as if to kiss him, but stopped suddenly, her lips hovering a mere hairbreadth away from his.

"Tell me," Elizabeth breathed seductively, "how might I kiss you to erase those painful years? Softly and gently? Shortly and sweetly? Passionately? Madly? Thoroughly?

Will moved a hand from her waist to the back of her head, abruptly bringing her mouth down to descend upon his. He quickly deepened the kiss, deftly rolling over and reversing their positions so he lay atop her. Elizabeth clutched at him greedily, one hand twining in his hair as the other moved across his back, loving each ripple of muscle beneath her fingers. She could feel how much he wanted her, but she was neither put off nor was her dignity offended. Quite to the contrary, his arousal only served to heighten hers, and she tightened her grip on his body, pressing further against him.

Will groaned into her mouth, reveling in the intimate contact but, just as suddenly as he'd begun the kiss, he hastily tore his lips from hers. His kept his eyes closed, striving to catch his breath while, unbeknownst to him, Elizabeth intently watched his face as he tried to constrain his desire for her and regain control of himself.

After a moment, Will opened his eyes and glanced down at Elizabeth. Taking one look at her, he begged, "Please don't look at me that way now."

"Why not?" she purred.

He abruptly rolled off of her to lie beside her in the sand. "Because, when you do, it makes me want things I can't yet have."

Elizabeth smiled, turning on her side to face him. "And what harm is there in wanting me? You may kiss and touch me. I am yours, Will. I belong to you."

"Not yet you don't." He lay on his back, eyes closed again, fidgeting slightly. After a pause, he uncomfortably added, "And have you never considered the possibility that there are other things I want from you besides your kiss?"

"Oh, I've been engrossed in that possibility for these past months. I only like to see you blush at explaining it – although you needn't, for I guarantee you there isn't a scenario you could imagine that we've not already played out in my mind."

This brought him to look at her. He turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow to hover over her. "You are a minx," he said, tickling her side. "You enjoying teasing me, but I shall have a little of my own back once we're married. These past months have taught me well how I might gain the advantage over you." To underscore his point, he bent and placed his lips to her neck, biting gently at the skin and causing her to wriggle beneath him.

Sliding his hands beneath her body, Will scooped Elizabeth into his arms and rolled over onto his back, carrying her with him so she lay cradled against his side, his broad chest as her pillow.

"Once we married, Elizabeth," he said, one of his hands finding her waist as the other softly stroked her hair, "I promise you our life together will be good. I'll do anything for your happiness, anything at all. I can't guarantee we'll be inseparable by day – my work must still be a priority if we are to survive – but the nights…..Our nights will easily make up for my absence during the day. Each and every one of them will be spent in each other's arms."

"In each other's bed," Elizabeth interjected.

Will laughed lightly, nodding in agreement. "Every moment together."

"And I'll never have to tear myself away from you," she whispered. "We will never have to say 'goodnight' again."

Elizabeth nestled closer to him, bringing her leg up to lay across him. Will smiled, trailing his hand from her waist down the length of her leg and working his fingers beneath her simple, thin frock to caresses her bare calf.

Hearing her moan softly in reaction to his massaging touch and feeling his body respond in kind, Will removed his hand from beneath her skirt, returning it to her waist. "It's late," he said softly. "We should be getting back."

"No," she replied, stretching her arm across his chest. "I'm not yet ready to share you with the world."

Will acquiesced to her tender supplication, placing a loving kiss into her hair as he tightened his embrace. The two lay there looking at the stars, Elizabeth's eyes beginning to fall closed.

"Do you know what I'm forever indebted to?" she sleepily murmured.

"Hmm?"

"The piece of driftwood that carried you into my life."

* * *

In a semi-conscious haze, Will slowly became aware of his surroundings, feeling the gentle weight of Elizabeth's head upon his chest and hearing gulls beginning to cry out overhead. After what felt like mere minutes of resting them, his eyes fluttered open to discover that dawn was nearly upon them. As his mind absorbed the gravity of the situation, panic began to set in, but his attention was swiftly turned to Elizabeth's soft mewing as she stirred in his arms.

Realizing what, or rather _who_, she lay upon, a slow smile spread across her face.

"Elizabeth?"

She made no response, simply snuggling closer to him.

"Elizabeth, we must leave."

"But I'm very comfortable here," she protested, her lips finding his neck and placing tender kisses there.

"Elizabeth," Will said peremptorily as he sat up, placing his hands on her shoulders and gently setting her away from him.

He chanced a glance around and saw that they were utterly alone and unobserved, but he was still tense. "Elizabeth," he repeated, "we should not have stayed out this late, and we certainly can't still be together come daybreak."

"Will – "

"We mustn't be found here like this, Elizabeth. People will think - - well, you know what they'll think."

"Will, calm yourself. Father won't take back his consent, even should he happen to find out. If anything," she added happily, "this will merely hasten the wedding."

"Elizabeth, we already agreed on a lengthy engagement. I don't wish for our marriage to begin under such an assumption, with your honor called into question."

"Slow down," she laughed. "I was only teasing. It isn't yet dawn. If we hurry, we'll still have the cover of darkness to aid in my return. No one will know I've been here with you all night…..It sounds indecent, doesn't it?" she giggled.

With a sigh, Will took her hand, helping her to her feet, and the couple made a mad dash back to the Governor's Mansion. Arriving safely undetected, they stopped hastily at the servants' entrance, both panting for breath from their early morning jog.

"You see, no one is about yet," she gloated.

"Hurry and slip inside," Will said. "I'll steal back across the ground before anyone sees me."

Elizabeth shook her hood, strands of sun streaked hair fluttering gently about her face. "Not until you kiss me good morning."

Somewhat astounded by her nonchalance, Will granted her request all the same, leaning in for what he intended to be a quick, chaste kiss, but it swiftly became something else entirely as Elizabeth slid her tongue into his mouth, wrapping her arms around him and pulling his body to hers.

Several minutes later, with a satisfied nod, she let Will go. "Good morning," she whispered, turning towards the door.

Will stood there dazed, shaking his head. "You'll be the death of me yet," he called back, but the lady's soft laughter was his only reply.

* * *

AN: Hopefully you didn't mind too much that I didn't include the actual proposal in this chapter, but I really couldn't decide from one day to the next if I thought Will's initial proposal would be very traditional or something more whimsical and befitting the characters, such as we saw in AWE. In the end, I decided it was such an iconic moment it was best left to the imagination. That way we can all individually decide how we best envision it.

Just a bit of information because I have had some questions on this, this story will stop pretty much where DMC starts to pick up. Each chapter represents one month since they've been back in Port Royal (But because I split the third section into two chapters, we're now one number behind. In other words, this 5th chapter actually represents 4 months since the end of the CotBP). At this point, it looks like there will be about 14 chapters, plus an epilogue. But again, just to bring clarity, this story will not delve into AWE territory.

As always, I love to hear what you think. Push the little review button. You know you want to! ; )


	6. Being Dishonorable

Since the day Will officially took over operation of the smithy, word had steadily spread of the fine quality of the swords young Blacksmith Turner created. Much to his excitement, he'd received a large commission from a neighboring settlement to provide their officers with several pieces of weaponry. It was a large undertaking, as Will had yet to hire on an apprentice and was already consistently engaged providing Port Royal's everyday blacksmithing needs. Yet, he had been accustomed to handling the heavy workload by himself since the age of sixteen, following Mr. Brown's rapid deterioration, and therefore felt himself equal to the task. However, the order occupied ever bit of his free time, making visits with Elizabeth all but impossible.

To make matters worse, as Will had always been one who believed in the highest standard of perfection and professionalism in his work, he'd insisted on delivering the finished product himself. Allotting for time to travel from and back to Port Royal, meet with his clientele, deliver the weapons, and present them for final inspection, this meant a week's journey in which Elizabeth could not so much as stop in to see him for a small chat or a quick kiss. She certainly didn't fault Will for taking the order. It was business after all, and a sure mark that his was thriving, something that was important to them both. Moreover, he'd assured her that the profits on this commission, added to what he'd already amassed, was enough to begin work on their home. Nevertheless, while her head understood the reason of it, it didn't stop the constant ache in her heart caused by more than a fortnight's absence of time spent with her beloved.

Yet, that was happily about to change, as Will had finally returned home. He'd arrived in Port Royal too late to call upon Elizabeth, and the following day had been consumed with catching up on the work he'd missed while away. Just when Elizabeth thought she could take no more, a communiqué arrived from Will asking her to meet him the next day. She was beside herself with excitement and had to desperately fight the impulse to go to him that very moment, but he promised her it would be worth the wait if they could simply hold out for one more day.

Though rest that evening proved unattainable, the next morning dawned bright and clear, the sun shining brilliantly in a cloudless crystal-blue sky. Elizabeth was awake, dressed, and downstairs for breakfast shockingly early – early enough in fact to eat with her father, something which rarely occurred. She was out the door and in her carriage almost as quickly, speeding to the smithy as fast as she could convince the driver to safely propel the coach.

Elizabeth leapt from the carriage as the horses were still being halted, nearly throwing the driver into an apoplexy. Calling over her shoulder to the poor man that he could be on his way, she scurried toward the entrance, shocked and more than a bit disappointed that her fiancé wasn't waiting for her at the door. Perhaps he was not as eager to see her as she was to see him. Hadn't he thought of her at all while he was away?

Elizabeth, however, had no cause for worry as Will was just as madly impatient for her presence. It was all he could do the day prior to keep his mind on his work long enough to avoid painfully pounding a finger – at least more than twice. He'd been eagerly awaiting her arrival since before dawn, unable to sleep and his preparations for the day already in hand. It wasn't lack of feeling that kept him inside, as Elizabeth feared, but rather the opposite. After such a long time apart, Will did not want their reunion to take place outside on the street. He wished to greet her in ways that were simply impossible in the public eye.

She bounded into the smithy, hastily shutting the door behind her, her gaze immediately alighting on the figure she'd been wildly desiring for weeks. Their eyes met and a wide smile brightened her features, instantly matched on his own.

"Will," she cried, running to him.

He fervently brought her into his arms, for a long moment simply holding her close, burying his nose in her hair, taking her fully in – at last the genuine article and not merely the apparition that had been his nightly companion.

"I've missed you," she whispered, tears apparent in her voice. Now that they were finally together as they'd always wished, Elizabeth found that she couldn't bear to be separated from Will for more than a few hours' time, least of all days on end.

"And I've missed you, my darling," Will replied.

His need for her was overwhelmingly powerful, and he quickly found that merely holding her would no longer suffice. He pulled back and greedily claimed her lips, his tongue zealously engaging hers. She clutched at his neck and shoulders, deepening the kiss as much as physically possible, wanting all of him she could touch, taste, and feel. At length, having satisfied their immediate hunger, they simultaneously pulled away, wishing to talk with one another, share what they'd missed, and simply hear the other's voice.

"Why didn't you greet me at the door?" Elizabeth teased, all fears of Will not pining for now long dismissed, but curious nonetheless.

"Because we couldn't have done _that_ outside," Will replied cheekily, "and I wasn't about to wait a moment longer."

Elizabeth laughed. "So….you've summoned me and here I am. What is it you have planned?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," Will answered, sweetly kissing the tip of her nose. "It's a surprise."

"A risky decision, for you know I love surprises but I lack the patience to wait…..I have ways of making you talk," she cajoled. "Do you wish me to employ them?"

"Yes," he readily admitted, "but not yet. I have a whole day planned for us and I want to get started as soon as possible. If you're to weaken me with you charms, I wish you to do so far away from prying eyes."

"All right, but how I am to go if I don't know where I'm going?" Elizabeth countered triumphantly.

"Clever," Will responded, "but it isn't necessary to know the final destination to begin the journey."

Her fingers began to trace coaxing circles across the back of his neck, but Will reached up and removed her hands, taking them in his. "In good time you can persuade me but, for now, we are leaving."

* * *

"I wish you had told me we'd be riding horses. I would've worn breeches," Elizabeth said as their horses sauntered through the tall grass.

"I know," Will confessed, "which is why I didn't tell you. No one observes you in the smithy, but there would be a tremendous scandal if you were seen walking about the island in men's clothing. You may shun propriety, love, but you do still have to live here."

She made a face at him. "I suppose you're right, but that won't stop me from riding astride. In any case, there's no one about to see me. Where are we, Will?"

He laughed at her bewilderment. "Quite a walk from town. That's why I arranged for Jonathon to meet us with the horses. Normally, I come on foot but, it's such a long way, I didn't want you to – "

"You thought me incapable because I'm a woman."

"Never, darling, I simply didn't want you to tire. My repeated imaginings of today are what kept me going these past weeks – and they don't include a sleeping Elizabeth."

"What do they include, Mr. Turner?" she asked, intrigued. "And where are you taking me? You've already let slip this is a location you've been before – and often, judging by your 'normally'. But I can hardly believe there's a place you've frequented that you've never shown me. I thought together we'd already discovered every hiding place in Port Royal's vicinity."

"This one I discovered after we'd grown too old to play together and, as it's utterly deserted, it would never have been proper to bring you here with me. It still isn't now, but I can't say that I mind," Will quipped.

"I'm glad, but won't you give me even the smallest hint?"

"Very well. I'm taking you someplace farther inland than I would guess you've ever been."

"That's not much of a hint, but I'll take it."

They rode on in silence for a spell until the tall grasses their horses trod began to thin and the landscape opened up to reveal a pretty sort of river surrounded by a layer of sand along its banks where the topsoil had eroded away. A small boat was propped up against a nearby palm, promising a further mode of transportation on their little adventure.

"This is where we disembark," Will told her, easily jumping from the animal and crossing to Elizabeth's horse, pulling her down by the waist. He couldn't pass up the opportunity that such closeness afforded and softly kissed her lips, earning a smile from his fiancée.

"This secret place of yours is on the river?" she questioned.

"No, I just thought it would be romantic. It's not exactly a pirate ship, but the idea of having you all to myself out on the water – where you can't easily escape – greatly appeals to me."

"And when have you ever known me to try to escape you?"

"The day may eventually come," he teased.

"Not as long as I live," Elizabeth vowed, "but the idea appeals to me, as well. Of course," she added impishly, "it's a very small sort of boat without much room inside. We'll have to sit terribly close, but I think we can manage a position that will please us both."

"No doubt."

* * *

An indeterminate amount of time later, the two found themselves lying cuddled up together in the boat. Having long since abandoned the idea of actually rowing, they floated idly down the river on its slow crawling current. With his arm as her pillow, Will lie half alongside, half atop Elizabeth, thoroughly enjoying the position, as she'd predicted. And, as Will had promised, she'd had ample opportunity to persuade him to divulge their surprise destination, which was how they ended up in their current position in the first place. While kissing each other was certainly not a new activity at this point in their relationship, Will's recent absence heightened their need and desire, consequently increasing the pleasure derived from the simple action. This, combined with the novel experience of doing so while afloat, left the couple perfectly content to continue enjoying one another indefinitely. The need for oxygen, however, eventually drove them apart.

Breaking from each other's lips, they both sighed, Elizabeth reaching up to sweep a wayward strand of hair from Will's face. "Don't ever leave me again," she whispered earnestly. "It's too much to bear, weeks without you."

Will brushed his lips across her check. "I know, my love, but I can't promise you my work won't keep me busy at times or even take me away again."

"Yes, but as you said, once we're married, I'll have your nights."

"Yes, you will," he smiled.

"With things as they are, I couldn't so much as see you at all. That's too horrible."

"It is, but we have the whole day together to make up for it. How do you like it so far?" Will murmured against her lips, using the tone he'd learned drove her to distraction.

"Very much," Elizabeth replied, readily receiving his answering kiss. Pulling back, she added, "But I still want to know about this mysterious surprise. You must tell me, Will."

"No," he laughed. "Have you never heard that good things come to those who are patient?"

She pouted at him, her face then brightening deviously as she ran her hand down the length of his shirt, stroking his exposed chest. "But don't you _want_ to tell me, Will? I'd be very pleased with you."

He leaned in closer to her. "You're not already?" he countered.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in mock anger. "Now you're just being evasive," she said, rolling away from him onto her side so that he was no longer touching her.

It might have been a fine ruse had he not spied her glance expectantly over her shoulder. Will had to hold back a chuckle. He could read her so perfectly: she now expected him to coax and woo her out of her 'anger', enticing her back into his arms. Of course, he also knew Elizabeth well enough to realize that she herself was completely aware that her feminine wiles weren't fooling him, but this fact did not hamper their little game; they both enjoyed playing it too much.

"Elizabeth," he softly tempted.

Playing her part, she refused to answer him but, nevertheless, couldn't keep the smile of anticipation from her face as he inched closer to her.

"You know, you're not the only one with powers of persuasion," he whispered, reaching out and gliding his hand from her ribs to her waist, smiling as he felt her tremble at his touch.

She pretended to ignore him but her breath quickened as Will slid his hand lower, his caressing fingers following the line of her hipbone. She had wanted him to seduce her and he certainly was. A small whimper escaped her, revealing just that, but she still did not reply. With his hand at her hip, he slowly pulled her back against his body. At the contact, she turned, smiling licentiously before attacking his lips.

Several minutes later, having at some point resumed their previous position, Will slowly ended the kiss. "Now that we've settled the fact that I'm not going to tell you," he playfully said, "let's go ashore and I'll show you instead."

Elizabeth gave him a blissful smile, kissing him one last time before moving to sit up.

Returning to the spot where they'd secured the horses required very little rowing since the sluggish pace of the river's current had failed to carry them far. Will hopped out into the shallows, preparing to lift Elizabeth over the water and pull the boat ashore. She, however, was having none of it.

"William Turner," she scolded, "first you think me incapable of walking long distances and now you imagine, simply because I'm a woman, I can't safely disembark from even the smallest of boats without assistance. I appreciate your chivalry, darling, but really I'm perfectly – "

"Have you considered, perhaps, I just wanted to touch you?" he asked amusedly.

"And you will, when I get ashore," she said cheekily, standing up in the boat. "If I can very nearly best you at swords, I can certainly – "

She cut off abruptly, struggling for balance, as the boat jolted in the wake of her sudden movement.

"Elizabeth," Will warned, biting back a chuckle, "you really need to – "

"Will, you've seen me navigate a full-sized ship in the midst of a pirate attack," she confidently replied. "Surely, I can – "

But her exaggerated step forward, without a counterweight to offset it, proved to be too much, tipping the boat dangerously forward and tossing Elizabeth into the water. Sputtering, she pushed herself up from the river bottom, highly piqued at the boat for such a great offense.

"Are you all right?" Will asked, hastening forward and helping her to her feet.

Attempting to reclaim some sense of dignity, Elizabeth stringently marched ashore. "Clearly that is a faulty vessel," she declared.

Will retrieved the boat and came to stand by her side, amusement clearly coloring his features. "I'm endlessly charmed by you, love," he laughed, "but apparently the river felt you needed a comeuppance."

She tried to give him a cross look, but the truth of his words combined with the genuine humor of the situation caused her to break out into peals of laughter which were heightened as she took in her current appearance. Her dress was wet through and, though her hair remained securely pinned, the once perfect curls that ornamented her face now hung in waterlogged strands matted to her cheeks and forehead.

"I suppose you've now seen me at my worst," she quipped. "I hope it won't cause you to change your mind."

"Never," Will replied, twisting a sodden wisp of her hair about his finger. "I think you look lovely. He leaned in for a gentle kiss before regretfully adding, "It's looks as if we'll have to go back though."

Elizabeth gaped at him. "And give up my afternoon with you? Hardly."

"But your dress is soaking wet," he reasoned. "You'll catch cold, and it has to be terribly difficult for you to move around weighed down so."

"Well, you're right about that." She paused for a moment in thought, suddenly reaching behind her back to the clasps of her dress. "Will, help me with these ties."

"What?" Will asked, startled. "Elizabeth, no."

"Fine, then I'll do it myself."

"Elizabeth, I don't think – "

"There's no one around. We're completely alone."

"That's not exactly the issue."

Any further argument was halted, as Elizabeth had been successful with the ties and was already removing her dress, causing Will to turn the other way in a panic.

"You needn't look away, Will. After all, you'll have to get used to seeing me in my undergarments once we're married."

"Yes, but then it will be perfectly all right for me to remove them shortly thereafter."

Elizabeth stepped from her dress, smiling widely as she stretched it out in the sand to dry. "I love it when you say such things, Will. I waited so long to hear them. I love the thought of you wanting me that much." She busied herself removing the pins from her hair, letting it fall loose across her to shoulders to aid in the drying process. Glancing up, she saw that Will still would not look at her. "Truly, there's no wrong in you turning around. I'm perfectly covered. No harm can come from being a little indecent to save our afternoon. Sometimes I think you worry about honor a bit too much."

Her words rang true, and Will turned around to face her, his breath catching in his throat as he saw Elizabeth standing there, clad only in her wet shift. While, as she's stated, the garment did cover her and, despite its soaked nature, the fabric was not transparent. It did, however, cling to her body like a second skin, revealing every curve and dip of her figure almost as if she stood naked before him.

His eyes darkened, taking on a new intensity as he began moving towards her. Now standing mere inches away from her, he reached out and put his hands on her waist, drawing her body to his.

Amused, Elizabeth looked at him with one eyebrow raised. "Why, Will, whatever are you doing?"

"Being dishonorable."

He kissed her hungrily, pressing her body tightly to his. At some point neither of them were quite aware, he'd slowly eased them down onto the sand, his body swiftly covering hers. His hands following her curves, Will broke the kiss, his lips leaving hers to trail down her neck.

Elizabeth buried one hand in his hair as the other clutched his upper back. "You know," she breathlessly murmured, "you're getting yourself all wet and caking me with sand."

"Do you mind?" he asked, sliding her shift down to nibble at her shoulder.

"Not at all," she sighed.

When he'd finished with her shoulder, he peppered kisses back across her collarbone and up her neck to claim her lips once more. Enthusiastically returning the kiss, she nudged on his shoulders, pushing him over and rolling on top of him.

"Elizabeth?" Will questioned.

"Shh, we're being dishonorable," she replied, her lips latching onto his neck.

Slowly, her soft kisses and gentle nips became more insistent and forceful. His fingers gripped her waist, flexing tightly as he fought the urge to roll her back over and love in her ways that were more dishonorable than he was prepared to be. After several moments, her lips broke from his neck with an audible pop.

She lightly fingered the warm skin, well pleased with her handiwork. "I like it," Elizabeth teased, laying a light kiss upon the blotch before pulling herself up to look him in the eye. "It tells the world you belong to me."

"I believe the way I look at you does that, but I'll happily wear the additional proof."

Suddenly, Will burst into laughter.

"You find my attentions amusing?" Elizabeth inquired in mock indignation, beginning to pull away. "Well, then, I just won't – "

"You know that's not true," he interrupted, holding her in place. "I was only thinking of what my former self – with all his insistence on propriety – would think of me now, alone here with you lying half naked atop me."

"Doing very improper things and giving you immoral ideas?" she interposed, tantalizingly rubbing against him, causing her fiancé to groan as his head dropped back into the sand. Giggling, she placed a kiss to his throat. "May I see this mysterious place now?"

"Give me a moment," Will breathed, his eyes closed tightly.

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth replied in amusement, slithering off him.

"I'm not."

* * *

They had been walking for a quarter of an hour, and Elizabeth was just about tell Will that she'd been wrong to suggest they leave the horses, when she heard the splashing of water directly ahead. She looked questioningly to Will, but he merely smiled and took her hand, leading her around the bend toward the source of the sound. Emerging from the brush, Elizabeth stopped short at the breathtaking sight. Before them stood a stream of water cascading down the rocks and over the sheer cliff she was unknowingly standing upon.

"Will," Elizabeth gasped, "this is….." She cut off at a loss for words. "How did I never know of this place?"

"But you've yet to see the best part," Will answered, turning her away from the water to look over the precipice.

Her mouth fell open in wonder as she beheld a panorama of the entirety of Port Royal stretched out before them.

"This is beautiful. Truly beautiful. I – I can see the whole town. There's the fort and….My goodness, it's the manor. Oh! And look, Will," she said excitedly, grabbing him and making him do so. "It's the smithy. I can see the smithy."

"Yes," Will laughed, lovingly taking her into his arms. "You can see everything from here."

"You must have returned here many times. It's too beautiful not to," she sighed, laying her head against his chest and continuing to take in the view.

"As often as I could get away," he answered. "I used to come here and think of you…..I would imagine us together, what it would be like to hold you and tell you I love you."

Elizabeth looked up at him. "And all the while I sat below, imagining the same thing. How very silly we were, needing a throng of pirates to finally give us the courage to utter the truth."

"It was my other imaginings that kept me from doing so," Will professed. "I would envision what you were doing that very moment, and it always involved something grand and far above me. Other times I'd wonder who you might be with – James Norrington always my fear, as he was obviously the chosen match. How very close you came to marrying him."

"I don't know," she said quietly. "I'm not sure that I would've been able to go through with it, even had you not professed your love. Perhaps I could have, though I never had that sort of feeling for him. I realize you weren't aware that I loved and wanted only you, but surely you could see that I didn't love _him_."

"I knew no such thing….I'm thankful you were at least spared that pain."

An ironical laugh escaped her as she pulled away from him. "Hardly," she scoffed. "I never knew what you were doing or who you with all the days and nights I couldn't see you. I was afraid you'd taken up with the miller's sister, or the baker's daughter, or a long list of other women lucky enough to associate with you on a daily basis."

Will regarded her in absolute bafflement. "You were actually jealous of those women?" he asked in amazement. "Why would you ever think such a thing?"

"You've never seen yourself as others do, Will – as you truly are – but the female population certainly can. Half the women of Port Royal are mad for you, and the other half simply won't admit it. Even now, I see them looking at you in ways that make me very glad I've learned to wield a sword."

He laughed. "Even if what you say is true – and I have my doubts," he said, taking her hand, "you needn't worry. I've never noticed. From the moment I first opened my eyes and found you hovering angelically above me, I could see no one else."

Elizabeth kissed his check, receiving a warm embrace in return. "You were right about being patient," she conceded. "This moment with you was worth the wait."

Will gently repositioned her in his arms so she stood in front of him, his hands at her waist, as Elizabeth admired the city far below while Will admired her. Though yet damp, her shift had dried enough to render the garment less revealing, but it still showed off her figure for his eyes. Her hair had curled ever so slightly as it dried, blowing soft and loose across her shoulders and face. Will reached up, burying his fingers in the silky strands.

"I've always loved your hair best like this, untamed and utterly free, just as you are," he whispered as he gently drew it to one side. "Even when our lives were in peril, I found myself mesmerized by the sight."

He began to nuzzle his nose and chin across the expanse of skin he'd just exposed. Pulling her hair the rest of the way over her shoulder, he kissed her soft neck, causing her to sigh and lean back against him. When she felt him begin to nibble and suckle at the skin she smiled, knowing what he was about. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensation, loving the things he could do to her.

Neither could be certain how much time had passed – they were too lost in each other to take notice – but eventually, with great effort, Will pulled away, smiling at the matching mark he'd left upon Elizabeth's neck.

"Because you belong _with_ me," he said, altering her earlier declaration.

"Yes," she laughed, turning in his arms to face him, "and I also belong _to_ you. You're the only one who can say those words so you might as well take advantage of it."

He tenderly kissed her lips. "I love you, Elizabeth Swann."

"I prefer Turner," she lovingly replied, reaching up and fingering the skin that still tingled from his attentions. "I shall have to use all of my ingenuity to invent reasons for wearing my hair down until this fades."

"Was it worth it?"

"You always are."

Placing her lips over his, Elizabeth slipped her tongue into Will's mouth, slowly sliding it over his. The pleasure such an action created caused them both to crave more and they madly grasped at each other. Fearing that, in their passion, they might inadvertently tumble down the cliff, she pulled away, breaking from the kiss to lead him back to lay with her in the soft grass, but the look on his face instantly stopped her.

The combined love and desire she saw shining dancing in his eyes were nearly enough to undo her. Elizabeth could hardly wait for the day when he would fully belong to her and they could do as they pleased, when he could not only set her afire, but also put out the blaze. She could only imagine what their wedding night would be like. Their hunger for one another seemed completely insatiable, and she doubted they would emerge from their bedroom for days.

Her musings were clearly read and understood by Will, and for a moment they merely looked at one another, wanting desperately to touch each other but doubting their powers of resistance should they do so.

At length, Elizabeth decided it for them. "I suppose we should start back," she sighed.

"Yes," Will agreed, his voice and eyes still betraying a burning need for her. "I'm afraid I'm terribly hungry."

Elizabeth giggled. "It _was_ foolish of us not to bring provisions on such an expedition."

He took her hand in his as they started back down the path. "I meant a different sort of hunger," he corrected. With a wolfish grin, he whispered in her ear, "I think it best we get you back in that dress as soon as possible."

* * *


	7. To The Swords

AN: Sword practice gets a little crazy in this chapter and Will and Elizabeth begin to earn the story's teen rating.

* * *

After three months of lessons – at least a portion of which were spent actually practicing – Elizabeth had grown quite adept at the art of swordplay. She had a natural ability which worked to her benefit and, having learned under a master, she could've easily bested many a woman, man, or pirate. Her skills were so advanced, in fact, by this point in her training that lessons were no longer about rudimentary skills, but about fine tuning her craft, cleverly outsmarting an opponent, and learning to fight in tandem – although, as Will pointed out, it was difficult to "imagine an occasion when we would ever have need of it."

Their fencing sessions also provided the additional benefit of a physical outlet to release the palpable sexual tension that flowed between them like an electrical current whenever they were in sight of one another. Unfortunately for the two of them, as their wedding was yet six months away, their sword practice often generated as many licentious feelings at it assuaged.

Still, as there was no other alternative, they lunged and parried, swords clashing violently as they danced about the smithy engaged in a particularly vigorous match. Though Will had enjoyed the early advantage over Elizabeth, his concentration was beginning to falter as he was distracted by the alluring sight of his fiancée's long legs – perfectly outlined in the formfitting breeches she wore – along with the rapid rise and fall of her bosom caused by a combination of exertion and the wild exhilaration engendered within by her handsome sparing partner.

Judging by the sparkle of anticipation in Elizabeth's eyes, Will's amatory mood was exactly what she had hoped for. Very soon she knew they would dispense with their swords and move on to other more enjoyable sports. His keen perception of her thoughts did nothing to help ease his urgent need for her or his inexorable craving to feel her body against his – especially as she seemed determined to place it there, even in the midst of their swordplay.

Since the beginning of their courtship, Elizabeth's avid reception of his advances and her frequent instigation of her own never failed to excite Will, but he loved and respected her enough to keep his carnal desires in check. Still, he ached to be with her in ways that a proper gentleman simply did not mention to a lady. However, it quickly became apparent in the course of their relationship that all of the improper things he dare not name _she_ longed for just as much – knowledge that Will found extremely pleasing. He enjoyed the fact that she wanted him. It made him desire her all the more. He loved that he could drive her to distraction as much as she could him.

A sudden, cunning move by Elizabeth brought Will back to awareness. He had taught her well; she very nearly had him cornered. Employing all the tenacity he could muster, Will forced himself to focus on the sword and not the woman, quickly regaining his footing and putting his fiancée back on the defensive. Within a matter of minutes, his victory was cinched. He executed one final, decisive strike, loosening Elizabeth's grip on her sword and sending it clattering to the ground across the room. Her regarded her complacently, a slight smile playing across his lips at he presented at her throat.

Though a naturally competitive creature, Elizabeth did not mind losing this particular match. As the afternoon wore away, she'd grown tired of fencing; her appetite lie elsewhere. "I surrender," she said invitingly. "I am entirely at your mercy."

Lowering his sword, Will's gaze flitted down and back up her body, yearning to follow with his hands the path his eyes had just taken. Wordlessly, he took a step closer to her, noting her excited intake of air at what was to come. Stopping mere inches from her, Will teased, "I freely admit, my thoughts were elsewhere. In my distraction, I could've easily been defeated, and still I've come out the victor. I'm afraid your sword skills are growing lax."

Elizabeth's mouth opened in indignation, her amorous plans of seduction forestalled by this affront to her abilities. "They are not," she resentfully pouted. Coyly looking down, an uncharacteristic blush colored her cheeks as she admitted, "I was a bit distracted myself."

Will laughed. "Perhaps it isn't wise for the two of us to wield swords in such a state." He set his sword down on the work stone, meticulously watching as she further parted the collar of her blouse in an effort to cool her heated skin. "I'll go bring us some water," he whispered unsteadily, laying a soft kiss to her damp forehead before he left the room.

Elizabeth watched him go, amusement dancing in her eyes. Many times during their courtship it had been extremely obvious that Will's desire for her threatened to overwhelm him. But, though she was certain he desperately wanted to do a great deal of inappropriate things – none of which she imagined she'd object to – he always had the strength and presence of mind to stop himself at that crucial moment and pull away before they crossed that line. Will was so noble in that aspect. If nothing else, that alone revealed the depth of his love for her. While the knowledge warmed Elizabeth's heart, making her love him all the more, it did nothing to stop the unquenchable hunger she felt for him. Only one thing could satisfy that need – and it was most definitely not sword practice.

Flapping the hem of her untucked shirt, attempting to circulate air, she glanced about, searching for a momentary distraction from her agitating thoughts. Spying her sword lying sadly in the straw, Elizabeth frowned. Will _had_ been right about her fencing; she did seem to be off her game as of late. While her incessant yearning for her provocative teacher was a valid excuse, it did not lesson her determination towards excellence in swordsmanship. Looking over at the many weapons of her fiancé's creation, hanging in place on the rack above her, gave her a sudden idea to bandy about while she waited for his return.

Outside at the well, Will was immensely thankful for the early evening breeze. He hoped it would help calm his irrepressible thirst in a way that mere water could not. His unconquerable lust for Elizabeth was daily proving more impossible to constrain – to the point where at times he did not fully trust himself when alone with her.

Nevertheless, he hastily filled the pitcher and hastened to return to her. It may be a tease this limited sample, making him long for the full portion but, having now had a taste of her, he found himself addicted to the flavor – so much so that the day when he no longer need fight for control, when he could do with her – to her – as he wished seemed almost a dangerous thing. Elizabeth professed to desire him as ardently as he did her, and though he did not doubt her passion to be intense – he'd had ample proof of that – he still wondered that this could be true, for he wanted her fiercely, desperately and, when she was finally his, when there was nothing to stop him, he would love her with such abandon it would take her breath away. Yet, whenever Will began to think he should tame his thoughts, quiet his feelings, and still his actions so as not to offend or frighten her feminine gentility, Elizabeth would respond to him in such a manner which made it perfectly clear that, come their wedding night, she would quickly match his ardor and hasten to love him in equally thrilling ways. The thought was as tantalizing as it was pleasing. It often served to agitate his mind and provoke his body – especially in the dark of night, in the quiet of his bedchamber.

Will reentered the smithy through the backdoor, expecting to find his beloved resting near the small table and chairs, but was as yet unable to locate her.

Elizabeth was so completely engrossed in the consideration of the swords overhead that she heard rather than saw Will's return. "I've been thinking," she called back to him, her eyes still fixed on the weapons, "since you've specialized my swords skills for practical application and we _are_ trying to make this as realistic as possible, I ought to try using a different blade. After all, it's very unlikely that I would actually have my personal sword upon me should the need to defend myself arise. I would most likely have to make do with whatever weapon was at hand."

Will set the full pitcher down upon the table, intending to go to her and ultimately agree to whatever it was she had planned. Looking up from his task, however, all thoughts of swordplay left his mind. In fact, his mind itself rather left office, as his body was now being lead by another organ entirely.

His stunning fiancée stood before him, reaching up to pull a sword down from above her head, exposing her bare midriff to his hungry eyes. Silently walking over to stop just behind her, he watched her with a sudden heat in his eyes, taking a long moment to simply marvel at her figure and the silky smooth appearance of her skin. Yet, soon, merely looking would no longer suffice, and he found himself unable to fight the urge to discover if her skin was as heavenly soft as it seemed.

Still reaching for that elusively high-placed sword, Elizabeth was unaware of Will's voracious thoughts or close proximity until she felt his hands upon her stomach, pulling her back by the waist until she rested flush against his body. She wondered if the pirate in him had at last won out over the gentleman, for a dam seemed to have burst within Will – and it was carrying them both away on its current.

Elizabeth shivered with pleasure at the sensation of his rough hands upon her supple skin, sensually caressing her abdomen, his finger slipping into her navel, rubbing slow circles there. Encouraged by her heady response to his touch, Will slid his hands across her waist, down her hips, to her upper thighs and back up to retrace the path, causing her to tremble in his arms.

As dusk began to fall outside, the sun sinking low in the early evening sky, the smithy was quiet, nothing but the sound of her quick, uneven breath filling the air. Keeping his left hand firmly planted at her hip, Will brought his right hand up to her hair, burying his fingers in the silken strands. He suddenly pulled her head back to lie against his shoulder, exposing her long neck to his thirsty lips which instantly alighted on her throat. Elizabeth's hand flew up to his neck, holding his lips there, urging them to continue their blazing descent down her throat and chest. She felt as if she were floating someplace beyond space and time where all she could feel were his lips and hands upon her body.

Abruptly, Elizabeth turned in Will's arms, pausing for a moment to drink in the sight of his handsome features, seeing the fierce desire she felt mirrored on his face. Her eyes slowly drifted to his lips, yearning to feel them against her own….But not yet. She wasn't finished admiring him. Gliding her hands across his shoulders and behind his neck at a teasingly slow pace, she hastily removed his hair from its tie, helping it to fall down in chocolate brown waves along his neck. A whisper of a smile upon her lips, she began massaging his scalp, fingers weaving about in his curls. Will gave himself completely over to her touch, eyes falling closed as he tilted his forward to rest against hers. His closeness, his scent, the sight of him, the feel of him in her arms all became too much for Elizabeth. Her need for him overpowered her and her once gentle hands fiercely twisted into his hair, roughly pulling his mouth down onto hers.

The quickness of her action unexpectedly jolted Will from his trance, but he'd never been so pleasantly awakened as by the sensation of Elizabeth's soft lips against his own. He rapaciously kissed her, his tongue tracing her mouth as his hands trailed her body. She returned his kiss with an answering intensity, fervidly running her hands along his chest and stroking the firm muscles, feeling them twitch in response to her caresses.

Surely this was heaven, the sheer ecstasy she felt at his touch. Yet it had to be a sin to feel the primal, naked lust he stirred up within her. Either way, she must have more of it; it was no longer an option, but an instinctive need. Elizabeth feverishly pulled him closer, desperate for further contact, needing to feel every part of her body touching his. Pulling back from his lips, she ravenously kissed her way across his jaw.

"Will," she moaned, shamelessly pressing herself against him and taking his earlobe into her mouth, biting it gently.

The fervently eager ways Elizabeth reacted to Will's kiss, his touch, even his smile, were a powerful aphrodisiac, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep things chaste between them and ignore the burning passion that threatened to consume them both.

"E – Elizabeth," Will murmured weakly, "please do not tempt me any further. I don't know how much more I can withstand."

"Good," she wantonly replied, continuing her torture at his ear and neck.

A low chuckle rumbled from his throat. "So you propose I take your innocence here and now, beside the forge?"

"You cannot 'take' that which I freely give," she mercilessly continued. "But if the hay pile is not to your liking, we could easily move to your bed."

"You enjoy teasing me, but you'd hardly think of me the same if I took you up on that offer."

"No," she taunted. "After you've loved me, I doubt I will ever be able to think of you in quite the same way. New images will forever creep into my mind."

Will's response to her suggestive statement was a greedy kiss, followed by a little torture of his own. Nibbling his way down her neck, his hands slid to her lower back, bringing her hips against his. "Has anyone ever told you, Miss Swann," he breathed huskily, "that you are impossibly bold?"

"There's something amiss about you addressing me by my surname while your tongue is trailing my neck," Elizabeth sighed. "As if you hardly know me. As if what you're doing is terribly wicked." The thought was electrifying, causing her to clutch his shoulders more tightly.

Will couldn't help but laugh lightly against her neck. The idea of danger and illicit rendezvous' never failed to excite her. It appeared his Elizabeth would enjoy playing pirates with him in the bedroom as much as she had years ago upon the sand. Though as a child he never much cared for the game, as a man, he found it had distinct merits and was a scenario he would readily enact with her – after all, pirate _was_ in his blood.

Elizabeth enjoyed his laughter, but wanted more kisses, brazenly rubbing against his noticeable arousal to incite such an action.

A low groan escaped Will as he pulled away, his eyes darkening to near black, wanting nothing more in the world than for her to repeat the action. He suddenly reached up and violently plucked down the sword she had been seeking. "Here," he said hoarsely, handing it to her. Swiveling around to retrieve his own sword, he looked at her with wild passion evident in his eyes. "We fence."

A broad smile stretched across Elizabeth's lips. "It's not the same, you know."

Will sighed, running a shaking hand through his tousled hair. "I know quite well."

The unabashed lust that had clouded her face and eyes suddenly dimmed, replaced by what Will could only decipher as jealously touched with a twinge of hurt. "How well?" she softly inquired.

A hint of a smile tugged at his lips as understanding of her abrupt change of mood hit him. "Are you asking me if I've ever been with a woman?"

"I….I'm not…...Have you?"

"No," Will answered sincerely, wishing to set her mind at ease, though he found her needless jealously adorable. "I never wanted to. That is, I _wanted_ to but, since I was old enough to 'want to', all I wanted was you. You filled my every fantasy, my every dream, my every desire. There was no room for any other woman. I might have found one…..but she would've only been a poor substitute for you. And if I held her, I would be seeing you. And if I touched her, I would be feeling you. But it wouldn't have really been you, and so it never could've worked. You awakened them; you alone can satisfy those needs. So I placed my pent up desires into practicing at swords three hours a day."

"Then you have me to thank for your great sword skills?"

"For causing the tension that needed relief? Yes, Elizabeth, I have you to thank for that," he smiled. "But, over the years, I learned quite well that it's not the same at all. And now that I _can_ hold you, kiss you, and touch you, I'm finding swordplay a very poor substitute – much more so than I ever before realized."

"Is it wrong for me to love the thought of you lying in bed at night wanting me?"

"Practically seething with desire."

"Yes."

"Not as long as you're doing the same."

She moved to kiss him again, but he stepped away.

"Elizabeth," he breathed, "truly I cannot. I do not trust myself to kiss you right now."

She sighed with frustrated longing, yet she understood the truth of his words. "I'm sorry," she said, moving away least she be further tempted to continue. "I do not mean to make you suffer. It is only that I yearn for more of you, more of the intoxicating feelings only you can give me."

Her admission touched off something in Will and she saw his reserve begin to falter. "How do I make you feel?" he asked in a low, almost threatening voice.

"As if I'm on fire. As if I'll die if I can't press my body to yours."

He took a step towards her. "Elizabeth – "

"As if I must have your hands and lips upon every inch of my skin this very instant."

Will slowly approached her, Elizabeth observing his progress with palpable anticipation, as she'd never seen him quite like this and was uncertain of what he meant to do. She _was_ certain that, whatever it might be, she would enjoy it.

He stopped before her but, rather than touch or kiss her, he merely held up his sword. "Do you care to engage me in a match?" he asked.

She couldn't disguise her momentary disappointment, though she was cognoscente of the very real need to return to their swordplay lest they do something they should not without the benefit of matrimony. "Of course," she replied alluringly. Drawing her weapon into a fighting position, she tantalizingly stroked the sword up and down the length of his blade. "I find swordplay with you endlessly stimulating."

"Elizabeth Swann, you are a tease," Will said, moving his sword in a circle around hers, catching her off guard and easily knocking it to the ground. "But, as I recall, you already surrendered to me. Is that not correct?"

She held her hands out, motioning for him to examine her. "What choice do I have? As you can see, I am quite without any weapons."

A slight smirk formed on his lips. "Oh, I wouldn't say that," he replied, slowing circling her, his eyes trailing her body. "Still, I believe your words were 'I am fully at your mercy'," he reminded her.

"Yes," Elizabeth said softly. "Do with me as you will."

Will ran his hand along her side, drawing close to whisper in her ear enticingly, "If only that were possible."

He allowed his mouth to find hers, ardently sucking her bottom lip, eliciting a whimper of pleasure from his fiancée. "But," he said pulling away, leaving her dazed and hungry for more, "I think it only fair to allow you another chance to defend yourself."

"Very well, but I wish to have my own sword back."

He scoffed at this. "An accomplished swordsman should be able to use whatever weapon is within reach."

"That may be, but have you never simply liked the feel of a particular thing in your hand?"

"Do not ask me such a question now."

"Will I not like the answer?" she playfully countered.

"I'm afraid you'll like it too much."

"You may be right," she said simply, walking across the room to retrieve her fallen sword.

He watched her appreciatively as she bent to pick it up, eyeing her shapely legs and taunt bottom, wishing to feel her softness there.

Turning to meet his challenge, she saw the look in his eyes and smiled. Purposefully walking back over to Will, she set her hands upon his chest and, stepping up on tiptoes, vigorously kissed his lips. After several moments in which neither one of them was aware of the passage of time, Elizabeth reluctantly broke the kiss, her mind thoroughly clouded with desire. Her lips still against his, she whispered, "To the swords?"

"To the swords," he weakly agreed.

* * *

AN: My hope for this story is to show the progression of Will and Elizabeth's relationship over the course of their one year courtship. In doing so, I'm attempting to make their feelings and reactions as realistic and human as possible, including their desire for one another that is building and increasing the longer they are together without the ability to "resolve" it. However, I am a purist when it comes to their relationship and, though I believe they no doubt had "close calls", I'm not one of those who supports the idea of the two of them "enjoying" one another before their wedding in AWE. In other words, there isn't going to be any consummation at this point, so chapters such as this are likely to be as much of a tease for you as it is for them – but an enjoyable one, nonetheless. I thought I'd just put that out there ahead of time to give everyone fair warning.

Thanks for all your reviews! I love to read what you're thinking.


	8. Behind Closed Doors

Stealthily creeping to the smithy's entrance, Elizabeth's smile widened as she discovered the door had been left open to allow a cool breeze. This would be even easier than she thought. Expertly tiptoeing through the room, she noiselessly made her way to Will, who stood beside the forge with his back to the door pounding a bit of something or other she couldn't make out, still happily unaware of her presence. Biting her lip to hold back a giggle, she sidled up behind him, slipping her arms around his neck and placing her cool fingers over his eyes.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Turner," she seductively cooed into his ear, "that all work must cease for the afternoon as a mysterious lady eagerly awaits your attentions." To punctuate her point, she placed soft kisses to his ear and jaw.

Setting the hammer down, Will swiftly turned about to face her, leaving Elizabeth, who still wished to keep up the pretext, scrambling to keep her fingers over his eyes. "That's thrilling news, indeed," he whispered, his hands latching onto her waist and pulling her close. "But we'll have to hurry. I expect my fiancée at any moment, and she wouldn't approve of this clandestine tryst."

With that, he lowered his mouth to hers, claiming her lips in a blazing kiss. Just as Elizabeth began to mold her body to his, Will teasingly removed his lips from hers, eliciting a pout from his love.

"Clandestine tryst?" she accused, attempting harshness in her voice, but unable to disguise her excitement from his fervent kiss. "I thought only _I_ could satisfy your desires."

"And so you shall – in five months' time," he cheekily replied. "Until then, I'll have to appease myself with whatever brazen women come wondering into the smithy."

"William Turner," she chastised, retreating from his embrace. "I withdraw my wish for your attentions."

"Do you?" he countered challengingly, predatorily walking towards her.

Her heart beat wildly at the game – and the thought of the victor being decided in the hay pile, as it was the last time they had such an 'argument'. Regrettably, however, they were expected at the Governor's Mansion in one half hour. "You know I don't," she conceded.

His brow furrowed in confusion and perhaps even the tiniest bit of hurt. It was not like her to give up so easily – or to refuse such play.

Interpreting his thoughts, Elizabeth laughed, placing a reassuring kiss to his check. "I want nothing more than to linger here with you," she explained, "but we have wedding plans this afternoon."

Giving her an answering kiss, Will released her, turning to snuff out the forge. "You might have mentioned them earlier, love. And," he said, picking up the heavy hammer and holding it out for her examination, "I could take this opportunity to warn you against the dangers of sneaking up on a man in mid-swing….."

This time, it was Elizabeth's brow that winkled in consternation, realizing the truth of what he said and expecting a small, though gentle, lecture.

"…._If _I had not already long since known you were there," he finished in triumph.

"But how did you know?" she asked, her mouth agape. "I'm certain I didn't make a sound. I'm very well versed in stealing in and out of places at all hours of the day and night, as you know quite well."

"It was your perfume," he smiled. "Lavender and vanilla caressed my senses before you even set foot in the room. I'd know your scent anywhere."

"I wasn't aware I had a particular scent all my own."

"You do," Will answered, drawing her back into his arms. "Here." He broke off to kiss just beneath her ear. "And here." He placed a string of kisses along her neck. "And here." He paused to kiss her throat. "Mmm, and especially here," he murmured, moving his mouth down her chest and placing a scorching kiss to her cleavage, his tongue enticingly trailing across the swell of her breast.

"You _are_ a pirate," Elizabeth breathlessly sighed.

"And," he replied, kissing his way back up to her mouth, "a good man."

"But we _can't_ miss our appointment," she reminded him.

Will gave her a disappointed look, his eyes betraying his hunger. Elizabeth ran her hands through his curls lovingly, bestowing his lips with a fleeting kiss. "We'll continue this tonight," she promised, "when the door is _not_ open."

* * *

Walking along the streets of Port Royal on Will's arm, his hand atop hers, Elizabeth basked in the lovely day. It was clear, bright and beautiful, and she was on her way to make arrangements for her upcoming wedding to the love of her life. It seemed things couldn't possible get any better, and she'd never been so happy or fulfilled in her entire twenty-one years.

Passing the fort, her smile fell for an instant, than quickly regained its prior glory. The change was momentary and slight, but Will noticed. Although he said nothing, he held her closer to his side, knowing the thoughts that were harassing her mind.

"Let's walk through the fort a moment, Will," she suggested a bit too brightly.

"Are you sure that's wise?" he gently asked. "I thought your father was expecting us."

"He is…..but I want to look at the ocean."

Will declined to point out that she could see the ocean just as well from the Mansion. As difficult as it might be for her, she seemed to need some sort of closure. "All right, love," he agreed, leading her through the stone walls.

The soldiers they passed briefly paused in their duties to greet the governor's daughter and her beau, causing the faraway look in Elizabeth's eyes to increase as she thought of a particular man who once walked these halls and wondered if the officers were judging her. Will gently squeezed her hand, giving her silent support, not begrudging her this last reminiscence of Norrington, the only other man save her father who had played a large role in her life.

When Elizabeth had first heard of his situation and his subsequent dismissal from the Royal Navy, she couldn't help but feel partially to blame. It wasn't at all like James to do something so rash, even in the line of duty. Yes, he wanted to recapture Jack to avoid humiliation, as he was the one who agreed to allow him a day's reprieve. Still, sailing through a hurricane and risking the life of every man on board simply for the chance at securing one pirate was not the action of a rational man, lest of all a carefully trained Commodore. But a broken man with nothing left to lose, obsessed with the only detail filling his life, determined to punish the man who he viewed as the catalyst of the situation…That was a different story. Elizabeth would never regret making her true feelings known and standing beside, living beside, loving Will for the rest of her life. Nevertheless, she felt the sting of remorse for not being honest with James from the beginning, thereby leading him on, and her heart carried the guilt for whatever role she might have played in his downfall.

While Elizabeth's thoughts were elsewhere, Will had led her to the parapets, stopping a safe distance from the edge. Turning her in his arms to face him, he softly stroked her cheek. "It isn't your fault, Elizabeth. He made his own choices. You had nothing to do with what happened. You needn't shoulder any of the blame."

Elizabeth smiled, placing her hand over his. "Thank you for saying so."

"I said it because it's true," he firmly replied. She looked doubtful, averting her eyes to the sea. "It _is_ true, Elizabeth," he repeated, gently cupping her face, bringing her eyes back to his.

"I know. I know in my heart you are right. I only wish that things had turned out differently for him." She softly laid her forehead against Will's, closing her eyes and breathing him in. "Everyone deserves our happiness."

"Perhaps, in time, he will find happiness. But," Will playfully continued, attempting to draw her from her melancholy, "I doubt anyone could ever be as lost in bliss as we are."

"Very true," Elizabeth agreed, placing a light kiss to his lips.

"Now tell me, darling, what are these wedding plans you spoke of?" he asked, slipping his arms about her waist.

She smiled again, determining to forever close the unpleasant subject of James and focus on her life with Will. "We are to be measured for our wedding garments."

"Already? Is that really necessary? I don't know much – not anything, really – about these matters, but isn't this a bit soon?"

"No, not at all," Elizabeth answered, her dumbfounded expression at such a question revealing her wealthy upbringing. "It's rather late, in fact. We absolutely must pick out the fabric, cut, and style without delay in order to commission the clothing from England and have it sown and imported to Port Royal in sufficient time to make whatever alterations might be necessary."

Will gave her a wry smile, and she knew immediately what he was thinking.

"Just because I know of such things doesn't mean I always must have them," she smartly declared. "I haven't had a dress specially imported for me since…..since my coming out ball all those years ago. You know I'm perfectly contented with the simpler things. I prefer them even. But a woman's wedding, that's something different."

Will laughed, pulling her closer and nuzzling his nose into her neck. "I was only teasing you, my love. Whatever your heart desires for our wedding day you will have. I shall see to that."

"Thank you, Will," she sighed, twining her arms around his neck and playing with his curls. "I could blame it on Father, as he is determined that I be wed with all the splendor befitting the governor's daughter, but you know me far too well for that. Only with you, I have no pretexts: on this occasion, I truly don't mind a bit of extravagance."

"Of course not, love," he answered softly. Ever mindful that they were in public view, he lifted his face from the crook of her neck to look into her eyes. "I will admit, though, it will be a strange experience for me. I'm not yet used to having nice things, and I've certainly never had anything made and designed especially for me. Such attention will seem foreign. I'll find it a bit awkward, I'm afraid."

"I know," she said, sliding her hand down to rub his chest, "but just think of how handsome I'll find you when I see you standing there at the end of the aisle…..And if it's any conciliation, I've having my entire trousseau – including all of my undergarments and nightdresses – made with the same care, only with _you_ in mind."

"All of your undergarments and nightdresses," he repeated in the soft, low tone that drove her mad. "That _is_ a conciliation. I'll picture it in my mind whenever I grow weary of the afternoon."

"Will," she reproached. "Now all I shall think of throughout the entire fitting is you in the next room imagining me in a lace embroidered, scandalously transparent chemise."

"Will it be transparent?" he asked hopefully.

"Shall I order it that way?" she retorted, biting back a laugh. "Perhaps I'll have my father make that special request."

"You may at that," he replied unscathed. "But then again," he added, a devilish look in his eye, "I never said I would be picturing you _in_ the chemise, so it's of little consequence."

"You're in quite a mood today," Elizabeth laughingly remarked. "What's brought about all this roguish charm?"

"The sight of my beautiful fiancée, as stunning as ever, lips as enticing as the first time I tasted them."

"Right in this very spot."

"A kiss that changed everything," Will added, inching closer.

"Like waking up," she whispered. "Truly living for the first time."

He bent to claim her lips in a remarkably similar reenactment of the event seven months prior but, at the last moment, Elizabeth tauntingly moved her lips just out of reach. Playing on his sometimes exasperating need to protect her honor, she teased, "But, Will, someone might be watching."

"Let them look," he breathed, bringing his lips to hers in a searing kiss. Despite his words, he nevertheless pulled away before things grew too passionate. It was more than likely that some of the men _were_ watching, and he couldn't bear the thought of Elizabeth becoming victim to their voyeuristic pleasures, even if he was enjoying her in the process – not to mention the fact that her reputation was at stake, a thought that never left his mind, even during their most intense moments in the smithy.

Withdrawing himself from her arms, he took her hands between his. "Tell me, what else will this afternoon entail?"

Elizabeth regarded him in astonishment, unable to hold back an amazed laugh. He knew her so well. She'd yet to tell him the most tedious part of what was in store for them, cushioning the blow with what she felt was the least cumbersome news first. "Father wishes to discuss the seating arrangements for the wedding," she reluctantly admitted. "He's worked out with the staff a detailed plan for how to best utilize the garden. Then there's always the consideration of where to place which noblemen, taking care not to snub any dignitaries, and so forth." The look on her fiancé's face told her what his words did not. "Is it too awful for your, darling?" she asked gently. "I'm accustomed to these things…..I can deal with it on my own."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he tenderly replied, brushing her fingers with his lips. "I've waited nine years to marry you. I'll enjoy every second of planning an event I thought impossible."

"Yes, but our garden, Will….." she broke off unsurely. "I know you've said you're pleased with our wedding taking place there, but you've never felt comfortable at the manor."

"Not at all. I can recall several occasions – in the parlor, in the garden itself, even a time or two hidden away in your room – when you've made me feel quite at home," he impertinently replied.

"Even so," she smiled, "I wish we could find a location with more significance to us, someplace truly special."

"Such as?"

Her eyes lit up, overcome with excitement at her sudden epiphany. "Here."

"Here?"

"Yes, it's perfect," she gushed. "This is where we began our life together. Why not officially start forever here? Of course, it can't be _exactly_ here, on the parapets, but there's a pretty sort of courtyard just down the way that's used for political and promotional ceremonies. Oh, Will! It will be beautiful. Do you approve?"

"Darling," he laughed, "I would marry you today in a dusty corner of the smithy – although your plan does sound infinitely more appealing. You name the time and place and I'll be there eagerly awaiting you."

"Wonderful," she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "Now all that's left to do is convince Father."

"Which will take you all of two minutes," Will playfully interposed. "Neither of us have ever been able to tell you no."

"That's not true," Elizabeth protested. "You've told me 'no' several times."

"Name one."

She crinkled her nose in thought, her face brightening at the coup of successfully recalling several examples. "There was the time I began to – " She paused, leaning in to whisper it in his ear lest her statement be overheard. Will's eyebrow rose, but he did not deny the allegation. "And then there was the time I wanted you to – " Again, she whispered the rest of her remembrance to him.

His eyes widened in disbelief. "I said 'no' to that?"

"You did," she giggled, taking his arm and beginning to lead him away. "The 'good man' always wins out."

"For another five months only."

She gave him a wicked smile. "I hope so. Now, come along. The sooner we finish at the manor the sooner we can get back to the smithy."

"All right," he agreed, bending low to whisper in _her_ ear, his warm breath teasing her skin, "but, as we walk, tell me more of your plans for you and I behind this closed door."

* * *

AN: I hope you enjoyed it. It's a little more tame this time around, but it's working towards a build up. Everyone knows what happens when too much steam builds up inside a kettle without a release. Will and Elizabeth will soon find out. As a little preview of next week's _Courtship_, the chapter will be called "_Will's Temptation_"- do with that as you like! ; )

I always love to read what you're thinking, and thank you to all those who have reviewed so far. I don't individually respond to each comment, but I assure you I take them all to heart.


	9. Will’s Temptation

AN: This chapter proves why the story is rated "T", but I'm guessing you saw that coming by the chapter's title!

* * *

It had been a long, hard day for Will, beginning work well before dawn and laboring into the night hours so that he might spend the afternoon taking tea with Elizabeth and her father at the Governor's Mansion. Stretching backwards to relieve his tired muscles, he doused the forge and began to ready himself for bed. Having washed and changed into a fresh pair of sleep trousers, he played with the idea of sleeping shirtless as he often did on these hot summer nights, but the cool breeze filtering in from the open windows overhead promised an overnight temperature drop that convinced him perhaps a shirt would be in order after all. Retrieving the garment from his small bureau and slipping his arms through the sleeves, he walked back out into the workroom to snuff out the remaining lights.

Just as he was about to put the last candle to rest for the night, a light, though urgent, knock sounded on the smithy's barred door. His eyes narrowed in curiosity and his senses immediately heightened, listening for anything out of the ordinary. It was nigh onto one in the morning. A visitor seeking entrance at this time of the night did not bode well. His fingers twitched at his side, involuntarily seeking a weapon, but in his state of undress he was left completely unarmed.

Hearing a second, much less certain round of knocking, Will decided the intruder was more than likely an unfortunate drunkard lost on his way home from the tavern and he crossed over to the door with a sigh. "Who goes there?" he called out.

"It's Elizabeth," she whispered just loud enough to be heard through the door. "Hurry and let me in before someone sees."

Will opened the door and stepped aside so that his fiancée might steal into the room. He watched with a quizzical grin dancing on his lips as she carefully barred the door behind her. "Anyone about at this time of night is likely too far gone in rum and whisky to take note of who you are," he wryly commented, "but that doesn't negate the danger of a beautiful young woman passing alone through town at this hour – which you seem to recognize yourself," he added, indicating her haste to relock the door.

Turning to him, Elizabeth removed her hooded cloak, casting it aside to fall haphazardly onto a nearby barrel. "That wasn't my reason for securing the door," she smiled.

"Oh?" he said, looking her up and down and taking in her unusual attire. She wore what appeared to be a woman's – or at the very least a small boy's – blouse, for it fit too tightly to be a meant for a man. Her lower half was outfitted with a pair of formfitting breeches and she'd dispensed with boots or knee socks, simply allowing her alluring legs to be pleasingly bare.

Elizabeth's eyes fluttered to Will's unbuttoned shirt, taking on an amorous twinkle as she surveyed his pleasantly sculpted chest and abdomen.

Will observed the change in her countenance and tactically stepped away from her, walking back toward the center of the room where the one remaining candle provided the room's only light. "What brings you here in the middle of the night, Elizabeth?" he softly asked, though he already suspected the answer.

"I thought we might continue our swordplay," she said, retrieving her blade from its place of honor and crossing over to stand before him. Holding her sword out between them, she asked, "Don't you want to spar with me, Will?"

Will made no reply, merely eying her cautiously, attempting to anticipate her next move. He knew her presence in the smithy in the dead of the night was as grossly improper as her flimsy pretext for being there, but that wasn't what troubled him. Already he felt his body beginning to respond to her appealing wardrobe and the flirtation she wished him to join in. Yet, each time they started the game, he increasingly yearned to end this foreplay and surrender to that which they truly desired. As wrong as it was for him to think such a thing, Will was well aware that with adequate seduction on his part – or perhaps even without it – he could easily have his way with Elizabeth long before their wedding night. The knowledge that she would not spurn, but keenly welcome, such advances made it all the more difficult for Will not to make them.

As it was now obvious that no answer was forthcoming from her fiancé, Elizabeth's head cocked to the side in thought as she assessed this unforeseen obstacle; she hadn't expected Will to all out refuse to play along. After a moment's silence, her pouted lips transformed into a devilish smile as her mind concocted an alternative strategy. She would not allow his reluctance to hinder her plan. Elizabeth Swann always got what she wanted – and tonight she wanted to be held by Will Turner. She could tell from the look in his eyes that her intended wanted this just as much. It was only a matter of carrying him past the point of concern for her honor.

"Well then," she continued enticingly, "it seems I win……Now what shall I have as my prize?"

The urge to reach out and pull her to him was nearly undeniable, but he knew if he were to do so that small contact would be the catalyst to ignite a glowing ember into a raging inferno that neither one of them would be able to resist or control. "Elizabeth – " he began, but stopped as he felt the cold tip of her sword on his skin.

With a naughty smirk, she parted his open shirt with the sword, taking a moment to appreciate the sight, before carefully nudging the garment over his shoulders and watching as it slid down his arms to pool on the floor.

Meeting his eyes, she saw the yearning in them and closed the remaining distance between them, setting her free hand upon his stomach, delighting in the heat emanating from his body. At an achingly slow pace, she ran her hand up his abdomen, fingers splaying across his chest as they made their way up to his shoulder and down his chiseled arm. When she replaced her probing fingers with her soft, warm lips, starting at his neck and working her way down his chest, she heard his breath grown uneven as his desire for her surged upward, incessantly begging for release, but still he did not touch her. When her kisses arrived at the base of his ribs and still failed to stop, exploring lips and tongue traveling ever downward, Will opened his mouth to protest but found himself unable to speak. As Elizabeth reached the bottom of his navel, his eyes fell closed and his hips jerked, fingers latching on to her shoulders and clutching the fabric of her blouse. This was wrong, and Will had a fair idea it would end in disaster, but by this point he was far too aroused to care.

At last coming to the top of his trousers, she pulled her lips away, rising to her full height. At the loss of contact, Will's eyes slowly opened, finding Elizabeth watching him with mirroring lust in her eyes. His one arm snaked around her waist, pressing her closely to him, while the other slid up beneath her hair to cup the back of her neck.

"Why did you really come?" he whispered huskily.

"For this," she said, lunging at his lips, her hand twisting into his hair and holding his mouth firmly down upon hers as she kissed him fiercely.

Elizabeth had wanted Will to lose control, to love her with wild abandon, and her wish was coming true, for he found himself beyond the point of restraint, zealously pulling her body against his. The limited contact proved inadequate at satisfying his burning ache for her, and he began propelling her across the smithy, all but carrying her the length of the room, until he had her pinned against the wall.

His lips broke from hers to travel down her neck, nibbling and suckling at the skin, his tongue tracing her collarbone. Elizabeth shivered under his kiss, loving the feeling of his hot skin beneath her hand but, with no shirt to sink her fingers into, she found herself gripping and kneading his bare flesh to a point that would've been painful had his entire focus not been elsewhere. Finding his desire for her insatiable, Will lifted Elizabeth up into his arms, seeking to satiate his feral hunger, the raw need for her that had taken him over. Reacting out of an instinctive impulse, Elizabeth wrapped her legs around him, thighs tightly griping his waist as he pressed himself against her, using the wall as leverage. She faintly heard Will groan as she lost herself in the sensations coursing through her body. Suddenly, she felt her upright sword – which until that very moment she hadn't realized she was still holding – slipping through her fingers. Without thinking, her hand closed around the falling weapon, her tender skin catching the blade rather than the hilt and painfully slicing her palm as the sword dropped to the ground with a clang.

Elizabeth's pained gasp caught Will's attention, and he immediately ceased his motions, setting her down upon her feet and pulling back to look worriedly into her eyes. "Have I hurt you?" he asked contritely.

There was a moment's pause as she balanced on shaky legs, dazed from his attentions, her mind struggling for clarity as the pair stood in the dim light. "No," she said, shaking her head, sounding somewhat bewildered. "No, I – I dropped my sword." As an afterthought, she added, "I've cut myself." She held out the injured hand from him to see, blood oozing to the surface and pooling from the wound.

His eyes softened in sympathy and he instantly berated himself. "I'd forgotten you held it…… I should have been more careful with you. You could've been seriously injured."

"It wasn't your fault," she softly replied, holding his gaze. "Don't be careful with me, Will. I have my fill of cautious affection from my father. That's not what I sought from you tonight."

Will averted his eyes back down to her hand. There was no suitable reply to her admission, so he did not even attempt to make one, lovingly taking her hand into his to examine the cut – a useful means of distraction. Still, Elizabeth's confession had rekindled the fire that her injury had temporarily squelched. It was clear to the both of them the instant he touched her once more. "Thankfully, this only appears to be a surface wound," he said tenderly, "but it should be cleaned and wrapped. I have such supplies in my room."

Wordlessly, she followed him into his small bedroom, tucking her legs beneath her and sitting on his bed, following him with her eyes as he moved about the room gathering the necessary items from various shelves. Will turned back towards her, opening his mouth to speak, but whatever words he had been about to say caught in his throat. She looked so beautiful awaiting him upon his bed as the shadows bounced around the walls in the flickering candlelight. It was as if every fantasy he had dreamed since the age of fifteen was enacting itself tonight, and though he knew it was unwise to tarry in this dangerous room considering how close they had already come that evening to losing control, he nevertheless could not stop himself from crossing the room and joining her on the bed, sitting near enough so that his thigh brushed against her bare calf.

Taking great care, Will gently cleansed her wound, blowing softly on the open cut to ease the sting of the liniment. Setting the cloth and salve aside, he retrieved the bandage from his night table, watching the intriguing expressions playing across her face as often as he actually observed the work at hand.

"I believe we've lived this scene before," Elizabeth said quietly, smiling softly at him.

Will instantly returned her smile. "Yes, we have," he warmly replied, turning his attention back to her hand as he tied off the bandage.

She regarded him amorously through hooded eyes. "Only this time there are no trinkets to spoil it."

His gaze flitted up to hold hers, a smoldering look ablaze in his eyes as he realized the implication of her words. When she reached out to take his hand, he knew what she meant to do but would not have stopped her if his very life depended on it. Locking her eyes with his, she seductively placed his hand on her neck. When Will failed on his own to reenact the scene of eight and one half months prior, Elizabeth slowly led his hand down her neck and throat, tilting her head back to allow his fingers – which now lightly caressed her skin – greater access. Nudging aside the collar of her blouse, she guided his hand to the top of her breast, removing hers and giving him a look that encouraged him to continue.

Will did not withdraw his hand, but he did not move it any further, simply staring rather improperly at her chest. His eyes darkened with desire at the arousing sight of his calloused hand on the swell of her breast. It was all so tempting: the sight of her, the scent of her, the feel of her softness beneath his fingers……

Suddenly, as if awakening from a spell, reason took hold in his mind and he hastily pulled his hand away. Yet, though he had somehow found the self-control to do what propriety demanded, his blood still burned hot with a yearning hunger for her that could not be denied. So strong was his urge to touch her once more that his hands began to tremble with the effort of denying himself that which he craved.

Seeing his tremor and understanding its cause, Elizabeth silently reached out and stilled his hands with her own, taking hold of them and placing them upon her body. This simple action proved to be a spark which set off an explosion, and Will's lips rapaciously descended upon hers. She returned the kiss with equal fervor, impatiently pulling the tie from his hair and burying her fingers within his curls, deepening the kiss. Elizabeth's intensely passionate reception further incited Will and he laid her back against his pillow, his body swiftly covering hers as he kissed her furiously.

Wild, unrestrained passion – even this raw, unadulterated lust – was not new to them, but there was something particularly thrilling tonight about the way his breath mingled with hers and how the muscles of his back and chest quivered as she tantalizingly ran her fingernails across his skin. His hands seemed to develop a mind of their own, wishing to touch her in ways – in places – that were forbidden to them before matrimony.

"Elizabeth…." Will breathed unsteadily, beginning to lift himself off her. "I…..We – We must stop before - "

Elizabeth lunged forward, reclaiming his lips, and the two fell back against the bed once more. At length, his mouth left hers but, much to her relief, he made no protests this time, instead kissing an intoxicating path down her neck and throat. She had yearned for this endlessly for such a very long time. The things he could do to her were beyond comprehension and she was by now so far past the point of return she could not bear it if he were to deny her this heaven now – not when there was so much pleasure he could yet give her.

She needn't have worried, for Will was far from withdrawing his attentions. Though he did not begin this seduction, she was no longer the sole instigator of their activities on his bed. Each new turn of his hand and movement of his body atop hers stimulated such an immensely zealous reaction as to prompt increasingly bold overtures from him – propriety be damned. After working his way down her chest, kissing and nibbling every inch of skin, Will buried his face in the open neckline of her shirt, biting and hungrily sucking at the bit of cleavage his mouth could get at, leaving his mark upon her in multiple locations. He ached to continue, his tongue longing to taste her in places her clothing covered. He knew they must stop this very instant before he found himself removing said clothing to do so.

"We can't….." Will panted against her bosom. "I can't…..But a minute more and I – "

Elizabeth reached down and took hold of his head, bringing his face back up and pressing her lips to his. He kissed her one last time, allowing his tongue to slide along the confines of her mouth, tangling briefly with hers, before pulling away.

"Truly, Elizabeth, we must stop. We can't yet complete this. To further continue would be painfully maddening….and I…I don't know how much longer I can control myself."

"Why?" she whispered. Will was about to attempt an explanation as to why he wouldn't be able to control himself when she continued. "Why must we wait?"

Will looked down at her carefully, examining her passion clouded eyes for signs of jest. "Elizabeth, I – "

"I've never cared for propriety, Will. I've never followed its rules. So why does it deny me what I want most? We needn't wait to be together," she murmured. "We can love each other tonight…..right now."

Although Elizabeth had long since hinted to Will in flirtatious insinuation and suggestive innuendo that she would welcome his presence in her bed before they were legally wed, this was the first time she had blatantly, in no uncertain terms, said the words. Will had underestimated how powerful such a moment would be. He knew what he ought to say, what he ought to do, but this was an offer he found himself unable to decline, and there wasn't a single part of him – lest of all the hardened member pressing against her inner thigh – that actually wanted to.

When he did not refuse her invitation, she took hold of his curls and brought his head back down to her neck. As she felt his lips moving across her skin once again, placing soft, heated kisses across her chest, she was determined to tell him one last thing before they fully surrendered to their passion and speech became impossible. "I love you," she whispered into his hair.

Of all the ways she had tempted him that evening, this was the most impossible to deny, the strongest aphrodisiac of them all, and his lips resumed their feverish pace.

"We shouldn't……We mustn't…"he breathlessly said, all the while kissing her.

Will's mind, heart, and body raged a battle within him. Respectability, propriety, morality, all avenues of polite society condemned this as improper, indecent behavior. Yet they were not merely giving over to carnal desires; there was so much emotion, so much love to back them up. And this was no strumpet off the streets with which he could work off his animal lusts. This was Elizabeth, his fiancée – very nearly his wife – the woman he had longed for, cherished, and loved for nine years. Would it really be so wrong to kiss her, touch her, _love_ her before they were married? Her soft whimpers as she ran her hands across his broad shoulders, pressing him closer to her, provided the answer.

His lips rediscovered the swell of her breast, teasingly kneading the flesh with his teeth. "Don't stop, Will…..." she sighed, twining her leg around his and arching off the bed, pressing her hips against him. "Please….Don't stop."

"Oh, God, Elizabeth," he moaned, his hands greedily trailing her curves, fingers and lips voraciously exploring her body.

His hand found its way up her thigh, eliciting an immediate, enthusiastic response from his eager lover, as the other made its way beneath her shirt to caress her stomach, fingers dipping below the waistband of her breeches and traveling the length of her hipbone, causing Elizabeth to gasp. Her skin was like silk, soft and warm and welcoming. Heaven help him, he wanted her desperately. She had set off something deep and primal within him, and it begged to be relieved, screaming he must have her then and there. His hand continued to travel the curve of her body, trailing up her side, at last feeling her bare ribcage beneath his fingers, knowing she was wearing no further undergarments, realizing he was mere inches away from touching her as no man had before. With this sudden knowledge, the full gravity of what they were about to do hit Will and he abruptly stopped, hastening from the bed, from her body, as if on fire – which, in truth, he was.

"We……We can't…Elizabeth," Will managed, breath coming in short gasps. "Oh, how I want to! But…we….we can't."

He began pacing, trying desperately to work off the tension that demanded release. As he walked, he urgently fought to compose himself, still his breathing, calm his rapid heart and quiet the burning need to have her that was driving him mad.

"This is foolish. You needn't suffer so," Elizabeth said. "I want you and you want me. Look at us. We can scarcely stand it, Will. I already belong to you. It is only a matter of formality, just a simple ceremony declaring what we already know to be true. Why must we wait, then? Come," she beckoned enticingly, "and we'll enjoy one another tonight." Her fingers fell to the hem of her shirt and began to lift it over her stomach.

Will found himself unconsciously taking a step towards the bed. "No. No," he said, spinning away from her. He could not bear to look upon her stretched across his bed, disheveled from his attentions, yearning for him, eager for his touch, openly inviting him to love her in ways he had only yet imagined. "Elizabeth, it – it isn't right," he reasoned, with himself as much as her, trying to breathe deeply.

"No one would know."

These words seemed to sober Will and he turned back towards her, now looking much more in control of himself. "_I_ would know," he softly said. There was a moment of silence, with only the sound of their labored breathing filling the room. "And think on it," Will continued gently, "it is yet four months till we are wed. What should happen if, in that time, you became with child?"

Elizabeth's brow furrowed, making it apparent she had never considered this possibility. Like a bucket of water, the true reality of the situation shocked her to her senses, and she looked away from him shamefully, rising to an upright position.

Will sighed, slowly approaching the bed and sitting beside her. "Elizabeth, we – _you_ should not have to consider such…." He paused, searching for a delicate way to say it, but coming up empty. "Such sordid matters…..I grew up differently than you. I know of the crudeness of life. This – and all that comes along with it – it is not what you want."

He delicately cupped her chin, turning her back to face him as he took her hand in his.

"When I make love to you for the first time, I…..I want to lay you down on a bed of silks and satins and kiss every inch of your body, love you in every way possible. I want it to be innocent and beautiful and…. untainted …..To have you, here and now, in a stolen moment of the night….You deserve so much more than that."

Looking at him, hearing his words and the sincerity behind him, Elizabeth found that she loved him even more than before – something she hadn't thought possible.

Will waited for her reaction but, when none came, he gently took her arm and brought the two of them to their feet beside his bed. "Elizabeth?" he tenderly questioned.

"I love you, Will," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. Suddenly, she grabbed hold of him, hugging him fiercely. "I love you," she repeated. "I _love_ you."

Will smiled. "And I love you, my darling," he whispered, pressing his hand to her hair and softly returning the warm embrace. "But, still and all, I think we should hasten from my bedroom as quickly as possible."

* * *

The night was bright and clear as Will and Elizabeth journeyed back to the Governor's Mansion. Though they lovingly held hands, the walk through town had been unusually quiet, neither one of them mentioning what had – or very _nearly_ had – occurred at the smithy.

As they made their way into the clearing, the town behind, the ocean to their right, and her home in the distance, it was Elizabeth who finally broke the silence. "Thank you," she whispered.

"What for?" Will tenderly asked, looking down at his fiancée.

"For protecting me, if at times from myself. For knowing what I want better than even I do...…Certainly, it was what I wanted in the moment, but you do that to me."

He gave her a wry smile, softly kissing her forehead as he slipped his arm about her waist, gathering her to his side.

"But," she continued, "it would not have been right for me, for you, for _us_. And I would've always regretted that we did not wait….I want to be with you, Will – in _every_ sense of the word – but I want to do so as your wife. I want it all to be just as it should be – the ceremony, our vows….the wedding night."

"And it shall be. Everything will be utterly perfect for us, I promise you that. And when we are finally man and wife, when we are finally one – in all ways – it will be borne of purity and love, and wholly beyond reproach."

"_You_ are perfect for me, Will. You're always looking into the future even when I cannot see beyond the moment. I want all of those things just as much as you…..It is only that, at times, I grow impatient.

"As do I, but there are some things worth waiting for."

With a contented sigh, Elizabeth snuggled closer to Will. "Worth waiting a lifetime, if need be."

"It shan't be that long, love – not long at all – before we are together for all time."

"Yes," she replied, leaning up to kiss him adoringly, "but you must promise me to remain levelheaded on this matter, for I am afraid that I'm often too eager and impulsive for my own good." She paused, gripping his collar and pulling him to her before cheekily adding, "And you make me forget myself."

* * *

AN: This was a tricky chapter to write because, while I can see something like this happening between them, I don't necessarily agree with those who portray Elizabeth as constantly trying to get Will into bed, with him always turning her down. I wanted to portray this scenario without falling into that, so I tried very hard in this chapter not to make Elizabeth seem too wanton, shameless, and – for lack of a better word – modern. She certainly has aspects of feminism, the desire for freedom, and the rejection of propriety in her character, but with her upbringing in that time period I just can't see her not only agreeing to but actually being the one to suggest premarital sex on such a casual basis. The struggle was trying not to portray this chapter in that light. The idea was that Elizabeth comes to see Will not with the intension of sleeping with him, but rather seeking a good snog. Her intentions aren't completely honorable, but neither is she having a "Girls Gone Wild" moment. But things get out of hand and it is only in that moment of being carried away that she jumped to consummating their relationship that night. I also thought it was important to show that Will was equally carried away, ready to go along with this, because while Will is heroic and often selfless and loves Elizabeth a great deal he is also a normal, human male who has wanted this woman for years. It wasn't that he was refusing her or that he didn't want the same thing but, because of their differences in upbringing and knowledge of the harsher things of the world, he would be the first one to recognize the potentially unpleasant ramifications of the action they were about to take. With that said, I also saw this as Will's opportunity to shine. I wanted to thoroughly illustrate how close they did come and how very difficult it must have been for Will to step back and put Elizabeth's interests and wellbeing above his desires. I also thought it was important to show that, once Elizabeth calmed down and came to her senses, she freely acknowledged that it would've been a mistake, because she _is_ a lady and I don't see it as part of her character to flagrantly enter into a premarital sexual relationship. However, in a moment of rash, not completely thought-out impatience, I can see her reacting in such a way.

So, that was my longwinded explanation of this chapter. I hope I managed to get at least some of that across in the writing. Let me know what you think.


	10. In Sickness and In Health

Will stirred in his bed, dimly becoming aware of the world around him as consciousness took hold. Opening his eyes, he was shocked to discover thin bands of light leaping across the floorboards. Judging by the amount of sunshine penetrating through the small cracks in his shutters it must be well past dawn. He had always been an early riser; what had once been necessity had, over the years, become a natural habit. His mind wondered at such a rare occurrence. He never slept this late – only when he was……He closed his eyes tightly against the unpleasant thought. Cautiously stretching in bed, the immediate ache in his muscles confirmed his suspicion: he was sick, excruciatingly so.

While Will had been uncommonly healthy and resilient since birth, even he was susceptible to a cold every now and then, but this one couldn't have come at a worse time. With only three months until the wedding, he was working double duty, spending his mornings and the occasional late evening laboring at the smithy while the heat of the afternoon found him overseeing the work on their future home. His illness notwithstanding, he was determined to get up and begin on the standing roster of orders that had been placed. None of them were due just yet; however, he'd been hoping to get an early start today so he might spend at least a portion of the afternoon with Elizabeth.

Rising from the bed with the idea of dressing and lighting the forge firmly in mind, the abrupt pounding in Will's head halted him after only a few steps. Nevertheless determined, he bent to retrieve a fresh shirt from his cabinet only to be met by an instant dizziness as he straightened. Perhaps those orders could wait, his aching body implored. With a sigh, Will allowed the shirt to slip through his fingers and onto the floor as he staggered back into bed.

* * *

Elizabeth ambled through town with a smile planted firmly on her lips. The sky was a crystalline blue. The late night thunderstorm of two days prior had put an end to the oppressive heat of the past week, leaving milder, more pleasant weather in its wake. Her wedding to Will Turner, the love of her life who just happened to be the most handsome man in all of Port Royal, nay, the entire Caribbean – make that in all existence, her mind corrected – was in a mere two months, three weeks, and five days and, as the light breeze danced across her skin, she was absolutely convinced that she must be the happiest, most fortunate woman in the entire world.

So beautiful, in fact, was the day, she had instructed her carriage to deposit her at the mouth of town so she might walk the main thoroughfare and sample the goods of the street vendors. But, as she was apt to do when thus distracted, she'd allowed time to get away from her and arrived substantially late for her appointment with the seamstress, who had since given up on her appearance and had paused to take refreshment. As Elizabeth was far from the haughty, spoiled governor's daughter that some assumed upon first glance, she insisted the woman finish her meal, assuring her that she'd amuse herself about town and return within the hour.

What a fortuitous plan this was, Elizabeth mused, as she walked across the street, for now it provided her with a perfect excuse to drop in for a visit with her fiancé. When she had last seen Will the evening before at dinner, he'd told her he would unfortunately be busy all day – a warning that rarely stopped her from making an impromptu appearance at the smithy. Yet, he'd looked so tired, and she knew he'd been working endlessly the past weeks to ensure their home was finished in time for the wedding. She hadn't the heart to purposefully interrupt his work, requiring him to spend yet another late night laboring over the forge. However, it truly was a complete coincidence that she found herself in town with the need for a place to go, and she really wouldn't stay for more than a minute or two, merely long enough to admire her beloved while he worked – a sight she'd loved since he'd begun to transform from the body of a young boy to that of a man – and, of course, steal a kiss or two, something she guessed he wouldn't mind too much.

Arriving at the smithy, she was surprised to find the door tightly closed. On a day such as this it was all but unheard of for Will to not have the door propped open to allow a slight breeze to circulate and relieve some of the heat from within. Quirking her head to the side in curiosity, she reached for the door's handle only to find that it would not open. Trying again, she discovered that, indeed, the door was barred. This was a true oddity. Will only left the smithy locked overnight or while he was away. There was a time or two they'd locked the door during one of their sword session, when they anticipated the need to not be discovered in such a state but, in the height of business hours, a barred door was unprecedented. Perhaps he had already left to work on the house? It was just after noon, still early by Elizabeth's estimation, but she knew Will would consider this hour well into the day. Still, he usually left a note on the door disclosing his whereabouts should an urgent need arise while he was gone.

She couldn't imagine what he would be doing inside with the door barred but, nevertheless, she knocked. When no answer came she almost turned to leave, but something about the situation left her uneasy. She lifted her hand to rap upon the door again. "Will," she called as she knocked. "Are you in there? Will?"

Within the smithy, still abed, Will's feverish mind imagined himself to be shaping a new sword and concluded the rapping he faintly heard to be emanating from his hammer. But, as the pounding grew louder and louder whilst his hammering ceased, the noise began to break through the fog of his dream and he realized someone was outside the smithy, knocking on the door.

It was a bit early for a customer, his mind complained, as he stumbled to his feet and toward the door, not bothering to adjust his appearance before he answered. Removing the bar and throwing open the door as best he could, he gaped out into the blinding sunshine.

Elizabeth could scarcely believe the sight that met her eyes. Will's curls hung messily about his head and shoulders, his feet yet bare and his shirt askew from what she could only imagine to be fitful sleep. All in all, her beloved looked disheveled and more than a bit disoriented.

"Elizabeth?" he asked groggily.

"Darling," she said, stepping inside and allowing the door to close behind them, "are you unwell?"

"Yes, I…..I think," he managed. "I remember waking up this morning and feeling rather ill. I was just going to rest for a moment before I began work. What time is it?"

"Around half-past noon, I would imagine." She saw the slight glaze to his eyes and softly rested her hand upon his check. "You _are_ unwell," she said soothingly, turning to place her things on the nearest bare surface. "Here now, you must get back to bed this very instant. I'll go put on a kettle of tea."

"No," he said, sniffling, "you needn't go to the trouble. I'll be fine. I haven't time to rest anyway. I've several orders to begin and, at the house, the roof is being – "

"Nonsense," Elizabeth interrupted. "You'll do none of those things. I won't hear of it. You're ill and you _need_ to rest. Now do as I say and go back to your room while I prepare the tea."

A lopsided smile played on his lips. "Our children will be no match for you," he laughed. "They won't get away with a thing."

"And neither will you," she replied sidling up to him and running her hands through his hair, smoothing it down. Laying a kiss to his check, she suddenly frowned at the heated skin beneath her lips. Pulling away, she ran her hands along his bare arms. "You're burning up," she said with a touch of alarm. "I'll dispense with the tea and get a pitcher of cool water instead. Really, Will, if not for your sake than for mine, you must lie down and rest."

Looking into her troubled eyes, Will felt his resolve crumble. He hated that he was worrying her. It was merely a simple cold. Still, he _did_ feel in no condition to work, and her soft voice and gentle hands were endlessly soothing…..He supposed one day of leisure wouldn't hurt too much. "All right love," he relented, turning towards his room.

"Will," she called to his departing figure, "take your shirt off. Your temperature is much too high."

"Elizabeth – "

"And don't even begin to protest," she preempted teasingly. "Or must we be in the throws of passion for you to allow such a thing?"

"No, but, Elizabeth, it truly isn't necessary for you to – "

"I'll have that shirt and you into bed one way or another," she declared, taking a step towards him.

"I'm going," he said weakly, retreating to his room. "Your way will hardly bring my temperature _down_."

Elizabeth laughed to herself, easily finding the things she needed within the smithy and hurrying out into town to draw water from the well and pop across the street to inform Mrs. Davies that she must postpone her appointment. Reentering the smithy and barring the door in her wake, lest perspective clients enter and trouble her ailing fiancé, she bustled through the workroom to the small table, filling the washbowl and hastily grabbing the cloth she'd set aside.

Walking into Will's room, she found him reclined on the bed sans shirt as she'd instructed, but with the sheet pulled nearly to his shoulders. She laughed as she approached the bed, sitting beside him and placing the bowl on his night table, dipping the cloth within its cool waters. "Are you chilled?" she asked. "Or are you simply being tactful? I can think of many occasions when you've been far less bashful."

"I hadn't given a thought to propriety. It's merely a habit. Since I was a boy, I've found the warm cocoon of the bed sheets inexplicably comforting," he admitted somewhat shyly as she swept the damp cloth across his forehead, the cold moisture like heaven against his burning skin.

"That's terribly sweet," she smiled, bringing the cloth down across his cheeks, "but I'm afraid your fever won't allow it."

Dropping the cloth into the water, she brought her hands to the top of the sheet, gently bringing it down his body and slowly exposing his skin to the air. "There now," she said, leaving the sheet pooled at his hips. Reaching back into the washbowl, she squeezed the excess water from the cloth and turned to finish cooling him when her eyes alighted on his now bare chest and stomach, unable to keep herself from appreciating her fiancé's exceedingly desirable body. "I think I'm going to rather enjoy being your nurse."

With an impish smile on her lips, Elizabeth tenderly ran the cool cloth down the length of his chest to his navel and back up again, watching as the water droplets trickled across his toned muscles. The impulse was too great to deny, and she softly traced the path of a cascading droplet with her fingertip. Following the droplet until it disappeared beneath the sheet, she glanced up to meet Will's gaze.

"I don't think I've ever found such pleasure in being sick," he replied.

Elizabeth drew closer, leaning over him. "I'm afraid this is my fault," she disclosed. "If I hadn't convinced you to meet me in the garden that night you never would've been exposed to that rainstorm. I feared you might catch cold as a result, and it seems I was right."

"It's not your fault," he insisted, attempting to shake his head but finding it merely served to increase his vertigo. "And, even if this cold is a result of that evening, it was _more_ than worth it."

"Yes," she smiled, pulling slightly on the bodice of her dress to reveal the fading evidence of that night's activities, "but I'm fairly certain Estrella suspects our evening outings; she's all but said as much. Of course, she couldn't care less as long as Father doesn't find out. I believe she finds it all rather amusing. She knows enough of my disposition not to be shocked, and she's always had a bit of a soft spot for you."

Elizabeth rewet the cloth and placed it across his chest once more, Will's eyes falling closed as her soothing ministrations lulled him. "What brought you into town?" he asked suddenly, the thought occurring to him for the first time. "I wasn't expecting you."

She smiled at his increasingly sleepy tone, running the cloth across his forehead one last time. "I was having a dress fitted," she softly replied. "But it doesn't matter now. Just rest." Discarding the wet cloth in the bowl, she tenderly ran her cool fingers along his brow and into his hair, brushing the damp curls from his face, repeating the action until she saw his breathing grow slow and even as sleep took hold.

Feeling his hand at her waist go limp and fall to the bed, for a moment she sat motionless, simply watching him sleep. "Rest, my love," she whispered at length, nuzzling her nose against his and placing a soft kiss to lips. "Rest." With one more kiss to his forehead and, finally, to his closed eyes, she gently eased off the bed and out into the workroom to retrieve her money purse, determined to go out to the market and purchase some goods so she might have a meal prepared when he awoke.

* * *

A week had passed since Will's illness and he had recovered tolerably quickly, as healthy young men are want to do. While no physical marks of his innocuous cold lingered, Elizabeth's actions remained indelibly imprinted on his heart. She had stayed with him that first day until nightfall required her return to the mansion, and she continued to look in on him each consecutive day until he was well, bringing him his meals and soothing him in whatever ways she could, helping him complete necessary paperwork and letters – even going so far as take an order or two. She was the very definition of the word 'helpmate' and her actions proved her love many times over. Now that he was back in excellent health, strong and virile as ever, he wanted nothing more than to finish his work at the smithy and hasten to his late-afternoon rendezvous with Elizabeth at their beach, feeling particularly eager to express his love for her in more than just the tender words of the past week.

However, all such thoughts were driven from his mind by the entrance of a stable boy from the Governor's Manor who came delivering a missive.

"Miss Swann sends word," the young boy said, holding out the note.

Will absently took the letter. "Nathan," he said, stopping the child's departure. He reached into his pocket and handed the lad a coin.

His eyes light up as he clutched the prized coin in his fist. "Thank ya, Mister Turner," he exclaimed, running off into town with a warm pastry in mind. He knew the governor's daughter would have a small staff and limited finances, considering she was marrying so far below her status to a mere blacksmith, but Will had always been uncommonly kind to the boy, recognizing a little of himself in his young brown eyes, and the lad held hope, however slim, that he would be chosen to go with them following the wedding. Or better still, he thought, Mister Turner might decide to take him on as an apprentice.

Will tore open the letter before Nathan had even reached the threshold of the smithy. A note such as this from Elizabeth did not bode well. His eyes devoured her familiar scroll and his fears were soon confirmed. Elizabeth had taken ill, apparently having caught his same cold, and was unable to meet him on the beach. He set aside the ax he was fashioning and immediately made preparations to close down the smithy for the day. After the attention she'd shown him during his sickness, Elizabeth certainly deserved nothing less, but that was neither here nor there; he would've gone to her anyway. Nothing could've kept him away.

Arriving at the Governor's Mansion one half hour later, he discovered that he was wrong. While nothing could keep him from her doorstop, until they were wed, there was yet someone who could keep Will from her side. As his daughter remained confined to her bed with a high temperature, Weatherby found his request impossible, believing it highly improper to allow Will admittance to her private room. Thus, while he welcomed his future son-in-law to stay and take dinner with him, Will was not allowed to directly see Elizabeth.

When three days passed in much the same manner, with Elizabeth's fever refusing to break and Will left to nervously await word of her condition in the parlor below, he began to fear he would slowly go mad. The doctor and maids that occasionally bustled past took pity on him, assuring the tortured young man that his fiancée was in no danger, but he, nevertheless, longed to see his love and verify the information with his own eyes.

Another day went by and Elizabeth remained abed, sighing as she counted the leaves in the brocade of her dressing screen for what must have been the hundredth time. While she'd earned a reputation for being a late riser, she hated to remain idle or keep to bed for extended periods of time. This one seemed unbearable, especially since her fever had broken early that morning, leaving the young woman feeling much better and desperately wishing to quit her bedroom. The doctor and her father, however, forbid it and, in truth, the fever had left her feeling weak. Still, it had been four days since she'd failed to meet Will, sending him word of her illness, and Elizabeth was beginning to wonder at his absence. She knew beyond a doubt that he had much work to do, both at the smithy and at their future home, especially in light of his own recent illness, but she must admit she had hoped to see him at least once or twice while she was forced to keep to her sickbed.

The last light of day appeared to have sunk behind the horizon and the small glow of the flickering candle at her night table was insufficient to illuminate the rest of the room, rendering even her inane counting game impossible. With a sigh, she rolled over onto her back, supposing there was nothing left to do but sleep. Perhaps she could encounter Will in her dreams. Allowing her eyes to fall closed, she could not deny she was a bit tired, a fact that amazed her as she had done nothing but lay prostrate in bed for days.

Hearing the click of the turning knob and the subsequent opening of her door, Elizabeth didn't even bother to open her eyes. Although she had only dismissed the maid but ten minutes before, she wasn't at all surprised that her father had sent the poor woman back in a final time before the night was through.

"I'm fine, Estrella," she said, a hint of exasperation present in her voice. "And, other than escaping from this cushioned prison, I haven't need for anything."

"Not even me?" she heard a familiar voice whisper, sending an answering thrill coursing through her.

Elizabeth's eyes flew open, struggling to adjust to the darkness. "Will?" she called excitedly.

"Yes, love," he tenderly answered, coming to kneel beside the bed. "I'm here."

"Oh, Will," she said, her voice wavering as she clutched his hand and drew it lovingly to her breast. "How I've missed you. Why didn't you come before?"

Will rose to sit beside her on the bed, running his free hand through her soft tresses. Seeing the tears squeezing out of the corners of her eyes, he knew a moment of anger at the governor, even if he had meant well. "I'm sorry, my love. I came every day but, as you kept to your bed, your father wouldn't let me see you," he gently replied. "My poor darling, did you think I'd deserted you?"

"No, never," Elizabeth replied. "I know you too well for that. But I thought….with your work….perhaps you couldn't find the time to – "

"I will _always_ find the time for you, Elizabeth," he vowed, placing his forehead against hers and breathing her in. Pulling back to regard her more carefully, he asked, "Are you well? You had me nearly out of my mind with worry when your fever held so long."

She pulled Will back down to her, wrapping her arms around his back and hugging him to her bosom. "I'm fine," she murmured against his hair. "Much better than before, only a little weak and _very much_ in need of you."

"I'm here now, and I won't be leaving anytime soon," he replied, brushing a kiss across her temple and withdrawing from her arms just long enough to slip out of his overcoat and place it across the chair of her dressing table.

"But Will," she said in perplexity, taking his hand once more, "if Father wouldn't allow you in my room before, why does he now?"

Will gave her a devilish smile. "He doesn't. But, as you said, Estrella has quite the soft spot for me. She helped to steal me in undetected."

"Will," Elizabeth exclaimed in amused surprise, her eyes brightening with happiness. "How very bold of you. You might've easily been caught."

"A risk I'm willing to take," he said in mock gallantry. In all sincerity, he added, " 'In sickness and in health', with no mere staircase standing in my way."

"My pirate," she smiled.

Will grinned, placing a lingering kiss to her lips before rising from the bed. Elizabeth silently watched him, her brow furrowed in confusion, as he walked to the opposite side of her bed, opening the shutters on her windows and allowing the moonlight to seep into the room. Walking back over to the bed, he sat on the edge as he removed his boots and stockings, tossing them aside on the floor. Standing to his full height, he swiftly pulled his shirt up and over his head.

"Will, what are you doing?"

"Staying here with you," he replied simply.

"All night?" Elizabeth asked, amazement and a discernable note of delight coloring her voice.

"All night," he confirmed.

Elizabeth smiled at Will, blissfully enchanted by the man who once would not so much as call her by her Christian name, yet now freely invited himself to share her bed. "There is nothing I would love more, Will, but you can't."

"I can and I will," he said cheekily. "I'm your pirate, remember."

"Yes," she sighed as he returned her smile and moved towards the bed. "But no. Will, truly you can't. The doctor will return in the morning – first thing, if I know Father."

"Then I have until dawn's first light to care for you," he whispered lovingly.

Her breath caught in her throat at his adoring, affectionately charming manner, even more endearing after the days spent in solitude. "Will, I – Oh, I how I wish you could stay but, if you were found here, it would be……..Well, it would be awful. Father would – I don't even want to think of what Father would do, but we certainly wouldn't want to face it, especially in light of our innocence. If I must endure the punishment, I'm at least going to enjoy the sin."

Will laughed. "You shan't have to endure anything," he promised.

"But it will be much more difficult for you to steal away once it's light."

"Which is why I've pulled back your curtains. I always wake naturally at dawn but if, in the comfort of your arms, I should happen to sleep late, the early morning light will surely rouse me," he declared.

"An ingenious plan, rivaling anything of my own," she declared laughingly. "But you do remember what happened the last time we were in bed together?"

"Mmm, yes….vividly. But in your incapacitated state, I feel safe," he said with a wink. "Will you let me stay, then?"

Elizabeth pulled back the covers, making room within the bed. "Pirates never ask, you know. They simply carry their damsel off into the night," she teased. "You'll have to work on that."

With a smile, Will climbed into her bed, thinking back to the many years of his adolescence spent imaging such a scenario. Pulling the covers back across the bed, he felt Elizabeth snuggle up against his side with a light murmur. Feeling her soft body pressed against his, with nothing but the thinnest of her nightdresses covering it so as not to overheat her, Will immediately knew the mistake of his suggestion. She laid her head upon him, her breasts resting against his chest and, as she moved, her gown rode up, leaving her leg bare as she twined it with his. The soft scent of lavender made the assault upon his senses complete. Even in sickness, she was endlessly tempting.

He closed his eyes as she nestled further into him, letting out an audible puff of air as his hands begged to move from a tender embrace into something more sensual and caressing. "I believe this may have been a mistake," he breathed.

"Why?" she pouted, closing her eyes and hugging him closer. As she moved her leg further across his waist, her knee suddenly brushed against his growing hardness. "Oh," she said in amusement.

"Yes," he murmured.

"Would it help if I reminded you my Father sleeps just down the hall?"

There was a pause as the sobering thought sunk in.

"Yes, actually. It helps immensely."

Elizabeth giggled, her soft laughter reverberating against his chest. "Tell me something lovely, Will," she asked, cuddling her check against his chest as he ran his hand tenderly across her back.

"I'll tell you of our home. It's coming along beautifully, Elizabeth. I'm now certain it will be ready in time for our wedding night.

Elizabeth smiled against his chest. "Tell me of our wedding night."

She felt the low rumble of his chuckle before she heard it. "Not if we expect to actually sleep."

* * *

True to his word, Will awoke the next morning before the sun's first rays shone over the horizon. He knew he must be on his way soon before he lost the advantage of darkness, but he couldn't deny himself the momentary respite of simply holding her, Elizabeth's warm body snuggled against his, looking so serene and angelic as she slept. Yet the soft and innocent exterior belied the strength, tenacity, and bold playfulness within. He considered himself blessed to be the only one who fully knew all these sides of her. His fiancée was truly a multifaceted woman who, for reasons far beyond his understanding, had chosen him to open herself up to.

Looking down at her delicate features as her check lie pillowed against his chest, Will allowed a gentle sigh to escape. But heaven could not last for him – not yet. As he lay listening to her slow even breathing, he contemplated how best to leave her. He didn't want to go without saying goodbye but, in light of her recent illness, he did not wish to destroy her peaceful slumber. Ultimately, the question was decided for him when he felt her gentle stirring as she began to awaken on her own.

Elizabeth could think of few things in life lovelier than waking up with Will beside her. Lying enveloped in his arms, his one hand slung protectively about her waist and the other resting lazily across her upper back, she had never felt more safe, contented, and loved. Reflexively, she began softly kneading his sculpted chest with her fingertips, much like the kitten she'd owned as a youth had worked her blankets when blissfully at ease. Will's embrace tightened in response and he placed a tender kiss to her forehead.

After a moment's pause, he began to delicately slide out from beneath her, eliciting an immediate protest from Elizabeth, who only held him closer.

"Don't go," she cooed.

"I must, love," Will gently replied. "It's nearly dawn."

She glanced out the open window as he glided the rest of the way out of bed. There was no denying the truth of his words. Nevertheless, after so many days, she did not want to lose the warm comfort of his nearness. She silently watched him don his shirt and boots, enjoying these last moments with him before the world intruded upon them.

"I'll return this afternoon," he promised, bending to cup her face and tenderly press his lips to hers.

"Will," she called, reaching out to encircle his arm.

He turned back to her, a warm smile on his face at her reluctance to let him go.

"How will you escape?"

Will's smile broadened. "Down the back stairs and through the servants' entrance, as you always do."

He began to leave again, almost making it to the door, but her soft utterance of his name stopped him. She sat up in bed, the sheets falling to her waist, revealing the gauzy cotton nightdress beneath, delicately hugging and accentuating her soft curves.

His smile faltered, replaced by a look of admiring awe. "You're beautiful," Will murmured, unable to stop himself from drawing near to her once more.

A slight blush colored her cheeks beneath his appreciative, suddenly heated gaze. "Will," Elizabeth whispered as she felt his arms slip about her waist, his lips lightly brushing across her collarbone, "perhaps you should stay awhile longer. Then you can steal down into the parlor and pretend you've only just arrived."

"If you think it best," he breathed against her neck.

"I feel it would be the safest course," she purred as he gently laid her back against the pillows, deftly climbing into bed alongside her. "Those stairs have a dreadful squeak."

* * *

AN: With less than three months until the wedding and the beginning of DMC, this story is starting to near the end. At this point, I anticipate four more chapters plus an epilogue.

Thanks for reading and for all your reviews.


	11. Christening

With less than two months remaining before their wedding, Elizabeth sat in her garden waiting for Will, a delighted smile gracing her lovely face, making her features appear even more striking in the late afternoon sunlight. After five months of impatiently waiting, she was finally going to see their future home. She and Will had decided all of the particulars together, doing everything from determining the location to sketching the designs and layout of the house but, though she had been actively involved in every phase the planning, she had yet to actually lay eyes upon its outcome.

Matters of building and construction in Port Royal were traditionally left to men, with the female population busying themselves elsewhere, but Elizabeth was hardly one to allow such a thing to stop her. Had it only been a matter of gender restrictions she would have been to the site throughout the entire construction process, but the wishes of her fiancé were something she would not so easily ignore. Though she'd told Will countless times that she would happily live in the jungle beneath a palm or in the watery cave they used to play within as children if it only meant she was living with _him_, his concerns continued over what he could only see as her step down from the grandeur of the Governor's Mansion. It hadn't made him feel any better when, three months into the building process with progress yet slow due to lack of funding, Weatherby stepped in and insisted on devoting a large sum to speeding the construction on Elizabeth's new residence. The offer had pained and embarrassed Will, who wished to provide for her on his own, and his first instinct was to flatly decline the contribution. However, as Weatherby had been adamant that the necessary funds were merely his wedding gift to his only daughter, it had been impossible for Will to refuse – not only for reasons of diplomacy and maintaining familial harmony but because, in the end, he found he couldn't deny Elizabeth anything, even if it wounded his pride in the process.

Nevertheless, while construction steadily progressed on the building, Will remained resolute in his wish that Elizabeth not so much as glimpse the house until it could be seen at its best, not wanting her to be disappointed at viewing it in a unkempt, coarse, half-finished state. She thought the notion rather ridiculous but, as it was so very important to him and she understood how difficult accepting her father's gift had been, she devotedly smashed her nagging desires to the contrary. Now her patience was about to be rewarded. The house was yet unfurnished and secondary work was still being completed, but evidently Will was pleased enough with its progress to at last present the building to her as their future home.

In the town below, Will was just beginning to make his way toward the manor. He had closed the smithy the entire day before, spending every hour of daylight at the building site to ensure that everything was perfect for Elizabeth's arrival today. He'd meant to show her the house first thing that morning, before the building crew arrived, but his plans had been dashed by a last minute emergency at the fort which called him away, forcing him to postpone their outing until the afternoon. He knew by now the men must have already begun their work – hopefully in a tidy manner – but there was nothing to be done about it.

Finally arriving at the mansion to call for Elizabeth, the two started on their way to visit the house where they would begin their life together. The site they had chosen was set far off from the center of town. It would mean a bit of a commute each day for Will, but he truly didn't mind, feeling the meaningful location far outweighed any minor inconvenience and, if it ever were necessary that he work too late into the evening to allow for return travel, he could always spend the night in his old room. However, he seriously doubted that anything – least of all distance – would keep him from sharing his bed with his beautiful wife each and every night.

They had wanted their home to overlook their special beach, the place where they so often met for clandestine trysts far away from prying eyes. Yet their private little beach would hardly remain so if they built their house too near to it, thus inadvertently disclosing its location. Consequently, they scouted the area and found a beautiful adjacent location a mere minute's walk away yet happily separated from their beach by a thicket which gave the impression that there was nothing further beyond, allowing themselves the convenience of late night rendezvous' upon the sand without giving away the location of the haven all their own.

"You don't know how excited I am to see our home, Will," Elizabeth told him as they walked. "Just think of it: _our_ home – and no one will be able to send you away or say it's improper to be alone together at such an hour."

"I certainly hope they won't," Will laughed. With a wink, he added, "Once we're married, I intend to spend a great deal of time alone with my wife."

"Lucky woman," she cheekily replied. Knowing their destination was just around the bend and down the path, she asked, "Did the house really turn out just as we sketched?"

"Very nearly. I only hope we don't arrive to too great a state of disorder. Craftsmen aren't always the tidiest of workers."

"Will," she chastised, a devilish smile upon her face, for he was not the only one who'd prepared a surprise, "I'm hardly so delicate that a bit of dust will frighten me."

Turning the corner, their little house stood proudly ahead. Elizabeth's face lit up and her steps quickened at seeing the realization of theirs dreams standing there before her, and Will soon found himself quickly outpaced by his thrilled fiancée. Stopping in front of the house, she merely stood and stared, taking it all in as he watched her, a hopeful expression on his face.

"Oh, Will," she said at last, tears welling in her eyes as she met his gaze, "it's exactly how I imagined it – every last detail. Seeing our home, it all suddenly seems very real to me. We're going to make our life here. I'm actually going to be your _wife_."

Will smiled, greatly relieved that she approved of the house. "Something I thought impossible less than a year ago," he said, tenderly taking her hand. Her enthusiasm was infectious and he pulled her forward, eagerly taking her inside. With his hand on the doorknob, he suddenly stopped, realizing something was amiss.

"Something must be wrong," he said, looking about. "I don't understand. The men were supposed to be here finishing work on the upstairs windows."

"They were…..until I sent them away," she revealed slyly.

"But how? Were you already here?" he asked with a trace of disappointment.

"No, I promised you I wouldn't. I may grow impatient for the things I want, but I _am_ capable of waiting for them – if I must."

"Of course you are, love. I didn't mean to – I just – when did you arrange this?"

"This morning," Elizabeth disclosed. "I sent a messenger to give the workers a day of leisure at my request." His brow furrowed at her explanation and she immediately interpreted his desire to know why she wished them gone. "Seeing our new home for the first time is a very private matter. I didn't wish to share it with anyone else, and….I think we should christen our house as Father does the naval ships."

"All right," Will answered, amused. "But I'm afraid we haven't any wine."

"My sort of christening doesn't require any – and certainly not an audience."

With a smile, he bent and scooped her into his arms, carrying a laughing Elizabeth into their new home.

"But we're not yet married," she pointed out as he set her back on her feet.

"I know, but I doubt what presence of mind I'll have that evening."

"Why, whatever will be occupying your thoughts, Mr. Turner?" she teased.

He inched closer to her, his hands snaking around her waist as he prepared to demonstrate the point, but she slide from his grasp.

"None of your charm yet," she playfully reprimanded. "I want to see our house with a clear head."

Looking about, Elizabeth realized they now stood in the small entryway and, as Will had said, the area was remarkably similar to that of their sketches. Though she'd never been in the house before, she felt an instant familiarity with her surroundings, having walked them a thousand times before in her dreams and imaginings. Taking her hand, Will led her to the left into what would be their dinning room. The walls and floors were yet bare, but that didn't stop Elizabeth from smiling happily at the quaint little room.

Stepping forward into its center, she stopped abruptly. "I think here," she said, flourishing her arms in a small circle, "is where we'll take our meals each day."

Returning to Will's side, she took his arm and nodded encouragingly for him to show her the rest. Walking across the entryway, he brought her into the front parlor, a room twice the size of the meager space he'd inhabited for nearly half of his life. Though the house was considerably grander than the things he was accustomed to, Will was well aware that it fell far short of the luxuries of Elizabeth's current home, and he looked to her nervously for signs of approval.

His fiancée, however, was oblivious to his anxiety as she excitedly brushed past him toward the window. "This is where I'll sit and read while I await your return from the smithy. Or," she said dreamily, enjoying the thought of playing the doting wife, "perhaps I'll use the time to mend the tear in your breeches. Of course, that won't happen often, as I'd just as soon come to work with you; just because we're married doesn't mean I intend to give up my sword lessons. And," she added with a slight crinkle of her nose, "there's always the fact that I've never been much for sewing."

Will laughed. "And when do you propose I actually complete any work if you're to accompany me everyday? You know how distracting I find you."

"You'll just have to overcome that," she retorted smartly.

"Impossible."

Slipping her hand into his, they explored the remaining two rooms, a small study and kitchen – each met with more enthusiastic comments and eager plans from the soon to be mistress of the house. Arriving at the top of the stairs, Elizabeth immediately halted, for their drawings hadn't specified anything beyond their bedroom and there was obviously more here than just a single room.

"I made a few slight changes," Will sheepishly admitted, hoping she would approve of his surprise.

Leading her to the end of the hallway, he showed Elizabeth a small, secondary bedroom that could be used as a guestroom or, as was Will's thought – though he had yet to disclose it – could easily be converted into a child's room sometime in the future. She was greatly pleased at the addition, but impatient to discover what lie inside the mysterious room directly across from the master bedroom.

Opening the door and entering the miniature room, she curiously questioned, "What's this, then?"

"The nursery," he said softly. "I thought you would want it as close as possible."

There was a pause as she broke from his gaze to look about the little room, wondering why on earth she hadn't thought to include such things and loving Will all the more for his thoughts of their future family. She smiled suddenly, overcome by the image she pictured in her mind: a tiny cradle in the corner with their first born child sleeping peacefully inside. "It's lovely, Will," Elizabeth said, completely awestruck as she turned back to face him. "Absolutely perfect."

With his arm around her waist, they walked into their future bedroom. Before Elizabeth could say anything, Will stepped forward and opened the door at the far right, gesturing for her to come look inside.

"Knowing your insistence on proper hygiene," he teased, "and your fondness for a warm bath, I had the washroom directly attached…….And with it so conveniently located in our room, perhaps we might even share the tub a time or two."

"I've always had difficulty scrubbing my back," she mischievously concurred.

"I can think of several spots in need of your touch."

She made no comment, but the blazing fire in her eyes when she looked at him clearly revealed how much she enjoyed his playful forwardness. Slipping back into the main room, she looked around the empty space.

"Tell me," Elizabeth inquired, looking back to Will, "where will our bed be?"

Will smiled, enjoying the direction of the conversation. "I thought – there – would be the best place."

Elizabeth regarded the piece of floor he'd indicated, a wicked gleam in her eye. Glancing back to Will with a tantalizing smile, she walked over to the small stool by the as yet unfinished balcony and retrieved the tarp left atop it by the workmen. With the sheet in hand, she sidled flirtatiously past Will – near enough so that she lightly brushed against him – on her way to stand beside the future location of the bed they would share. Delicately spreading the sheet across the space, she sat down upon it, tucking her legs beneath her and looking alluringly to Will. Eagerly answering her obvious invitation, he came to kneel before her.

"Think of it, Will," she said, her fingers playing with his. "This is where we'll consummate our marriage. This is where our children will be conceived…..Neither one of us has any particular knowledge on the subject beyond theory, but," she added, sitting up on her knees and inching closer to him, "I've always heard that practice makes perfect – and I intend to practice with you often and at length."

Will looked at her amorously, reaching out and pulling her to him. "Does your father know you talk that way, Miss Swann?"

"Most assuredly not," she replied, slipping her arms about his neck and drawing him closer until their lips were a mere hairbreadth apart. "And he also doesn't know how I kiss you……or how you touch me…..and he _certainly_ doesn't know how much I like it."

"Elizabeth," he sighed, crushing his lips to hers in a searing kiss. His tongue seductively engaged hers in a dance they found far more pleasing than those they performed with swords – although one frequently lead to the other.

Elizabeth suddenly pulled away, leaving Will leaning towards her, seeking more. Setting a hand to his chest, she gently pushed him down to lie upon his back. He readily complied, but took hold of her waist and pulled her down to lay beside him, his lips claiming hers once more as his hand wandered down her hip to her thigh. The murmur that escaped her signaled her intense enjoyment of his attentions but she, nevertheless, broke the kiss again, sitting back up on her knees.

"Elizabeth?" Will questioned, breathlessly.

She gave him a naughty smile, wordlessly reaching down to hike up her skirts as she straddled his hips.

"Elizabeth," he repeated, an imploring tone to his voice as he felt her fingers tug at his shirt, slipping beneath. She was a temptress and they were both well aware of how difficult it was for him to resist her advances, particularly such brazen ones as this.

Her hands trailing the length of his chest, she whispered, "Shh….just enjoy it, Will. I won't do anything inappropriate."

"_This_ is inappropriate."

Knowing what his response would be, she teased, "Shall I stop then?" beginning to move from across him.

As she'd anticipated, Will reached out and caught her waist. "Don't stop."

She smiled, settling back against him. "I don't intend to cross any lines." Bending down, she breathed against his lips, "Only hover very close to the edge."

Weaving his hand into her hair, he brought her mouth down over his, engaging her in a hungry kiss. Elizabeth quickly found she was quite partial to this new position – particularly so when Will's hand found its way to her now exposed knee. Deftly rolling her beneath him, he continued the ravenous kiss, his hand fervently caressing her deliciously bare leg. Seeming to suddenly remember himself, he slowly broke the kiss. Pulling away, he took one look down at his fiancée and a longing sigh escaped his lips. Her face was still upturned towards his kisses, her eyes yet closed, savoring each sensation.

"Elizabeth," he tenderly murmured. "Look at me." Her eyes softly fluttered open to meet his, seeing her desire matched in them. "Do you like the view from here?"

She blinked in confusion. When Will made no further reply, genuinely seeming to expect her to give him her appraisal of the view, she turned her head and glanced about the room. "It's beautiful," she said sincerely. "I can see the ocean."

"I'm glad you approve, for it's all you shall see for at least a week."

"Is that a promise?" Elizabeth asked enticingly. "Of course, I also expect to see my very handsome husband a time or two." She paused, removing her hands from beneath his shirt and catching it in her fingers. "Only without this." Reaching down, she tugged at the waist of his trousers. "Or this."

Will lightly brushed his lips against hers. "I rather enjoy your sort of christening, Miss Swann. I must recommend it to all the officers." He swiftly rose to his feet, bending and helping her to hers. "Shall we go?"

"I suppose," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Unless you care to stay and rethink our original agreement…….After all, we _are_ in the right place, and two months is an awfully long time."

"It is," he sighed, his hands finding her waist as her lips made their way back to his. "But it will pass before we know it," he said weakly, setting her away from him.

"Will," she protested, walking back into his arms.

"It was you who asked me to remain firm on this issue," he reminded her.

She frowned. "So it was," she admitted. "But I'm determined to run off with you the very instant the ceremony is finished."

Will smiled in agreement. "Just as soon as our vows are spoken."

* * *

AN: Thank you for all your reviews last chapter. I really appreciated them.


	12. Midnight Rendezvous

AN: Though not officially a new chapter to _Courtship_, this was the original post-CotBP pre-DMC oneshot that inspired me to write the full-length story. This is the point in the timeline where it fits in, so I thought adding it as an additional chapter might give a better perspective on the chronology of this time in-between the first two films.

* * *

Under the cover of darkness, Elizabeth stealthily made her way through the streets of Port Royal to the smithy, her eagerness evident as her pace quickened with every step nearer to Will. They were to be wed in a mere matter of weeks, nine to be exact. However, their time together as of late had been somewhat constrained by the constant presence of Estrella, her maid. This inconvenience was owed to an unfortunate incident that occurred in Elizabeth's garden four afternoons prior when Governor Swann happened upon his daughter and her beloved kissing rather enthusiastically beneath her favorite tree. He had always been a relatively indulgent father. Nevertheless, he steadfastly believed that a certain level of propriety _must_ be exercised, and this public display of rather wonton affection - in broad daylight - in his opinion, quite transgressed that boundary. He made that abundantly clear to both Elizabeth and Will, insisting on the presence of a chaperone for the remainder of their courtship in order to prevent similar – or, heaven forbid, even greater – indiscretions.

However, Elizabeth cared very little about indiscretions where William Turner was concerned and even less about propriety, a word she loathed. Thus, late that evening, after everyone in the Governor's Mansion had retired, she set out towards the blacksmith shop to end the misery that four days worth of time spent so close, yet unable to freely express their emotions, can cause two lovers. That afternoon, in the half second they were left alone while Estrella went to fetch the shawl that Elizabeth "accidentally" left in her bedroom, she confessed her plan to Will. For his part, Will was not at all surprised, as this was not the first time she had engaged in such activities since the passing of Mr. Brown, when the smithy came fully into Will's hands. Nor was Will the least bit censorious of her plan, as he too had been suffering greatly from the immense effort of not pulling his beloved into his arms when she smiled so very sensuously at him and stroked his arm whenever her maid was not looking.

After what seemed like hours, Elizabeth reached the smithy and let herself in the unlocked door, making sure to bar it after her entrance. Will, who had been waiting for her arrival, immediately appeared from his living quarters in the back of the shop. The two hurried toward one another, meeting in the middle of the room.

"Will," Elizabeth sighed in a whisper as he drew her into his arms, backing her against the support beam.

Their lips met in a hungry kiss that intensified as Elizabeth ran her hands up Will's shoulders and neck, pulling him closer to her.

"Elizabeth," he uttered breathlessly between kisses. "I've missed you."

"I've been here all along," she replied, equally out of breath.

"But not here," he said, wrapping his arm more tightly about her waist and pulling her to him so every inch of their bodies were touching.

Elizabeth needed no further encouragement and resumed kissing him with such fervor that Will was taken aback, figuratively and nearly literally. Continuing to kiss her and still holding her tightly against him, he led her over to his small table and chairs near the corner of the room. Pushing the table aside, he sat in one of the chairs, pulling her into his lap as his lips broke from hers to begin their nibbling descent down her throat and neck.

Reaching up, he delicately slid the sleeve of her dress down her left shoulder, reveling in the feel of her soft, bare skin beneath his hand. His lips then followed the same path, gently sucking at the convergence of her neck and shoulder. Moaning, Elizabeth craned her neck to the side, allowing him greater access in order to continue her on her dizzying spin from conscious existence. Wanting still more of Will, she eagerly tugged at his shirt, freeing it from his pants and slipping her hands underneath and up his chest. Groaning softly at her touch, Will's hands stroked her hips as his mouth ceased its ministrations on her neck and shoulder and slowly began placing a trail of kisses along the neckline of her bodice.

Elizabeth moved in his lap to adjust her position, causing Will to gasp and look up at her, his eyes clouded with desire. Yet, despite his raging need for her, when his eyes encountered hers he seemed to suddenly remember himself.

"Elizabeth," he said, hoarsely.

"Yes," she murmured, bending to kiss his neck.

"Elizabeth," Will repeated, with more urgency but less breath. "I will not compromise you."

Her lips stilling, Elizabeth smiled against his skin. As their courtship intensified, the pair had agreed to wait until after they were wed to know one another physically. She smiled at the thought that here, in the midst of their passion, Will wished to reassure her that he would not attempt to break their agreement. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with love.

"Of course," she replied tenderly, before greedily seeking his lips.

Her eyes filled with confusion as his lips pulled back from hers.

"Darling," Will said softly, "I will_ not_ compromise your honor. But," he sighed, "I am only a man, and sometimes I fear you threaten to bring me past the brink of self control."

Now fully understanding his meaning, Elizabeth smiled wickedly, as she spread her hands across his bare chest.

"I'm glad," she said saucily, "for you deprived me of mine the moment you first kissed me."

She then returned her lips to his neck, mimicking the attentions he had just given hers. Will felt himself sliding ever closer to the aforementioned brink.

"Elizabeth," he gasped breathily, "unless you're prepared to be ravished in the hay pile, there really must be some distance between us."

He felt Elizabeth's breath quicken with excitement at the thought, which did little to alleviate his predicament. Looking up into his eyes, however, Elizabeth saw the struggle he waged with himself and her heart took pity on him. Removing her hands from beneath his shirt, she got up from his lap and moved across the room.

Nevertheless, unable to resist the urge to tease him, she asked, smiling, "Is this far enough? Or must I remove the temptation all the way back to the Governor's Mansion?"

Still in the chair across the room, Will took in her appearance. His fingers had worked her hair loose from its former upswept position. It lie tumbled about her shoulders, the left one still bare. Her eyes mirrored the desire in his, and her lips were slightly swollen from their feverish kisses.

Shaking his head, Will replied bluntly, "I was wrong. Distance is no help at all."

"Shall I go?" she asked, amused.

Will laughed lightly. "No, love. I can control myself," he stated, as much for his own benefit as for hers. "Eight years worth of loving you from afar more than taught me that skill."

* * *

An hour later, Will and Elizabeth lay side by side in the hay pile though, as promised, no ravishing had taken place. Holding hands, they laughed, remembering their past, planning their future, and thoroughly enjoying their present.

"Do you wish to have a large family, Will?" Elizabeth asked.

He nodded, happily. "I love children. I will especially love ours," he teased. "But I'm afraid the burden of that wish will fall upon you," Will continued, seriously. "What are your thoughts on the matter?"

Elizabeth considered this. "Being an only child is a terribly lonely thing. Despite all the luxuries I had, until I met you, my life was exceedingly dull." Rolling onto her side to face him, she let out a throaty laugh. "But it's definitely not so anymore."

Placing her hand on his chest and her leg across his, she continued, "And since I can't seem to keep my hands off of you - "

"And I can't keep mine off you," Will interrupted, placing his hands about her waist and scooting her body up so she lay fully atop him.

"It seems we are destined to have a very large brood of little Turners running about our house," Elizabeth finished blissfully.

Several hours later, Elizabeth prepared to make her departure while Port Royal still remained cloaked in darkness. She lightly fingered the handle of her sword as she passed it on her way to the door.

"When shall I have the pleasure of seeing you again, Miss Swann?" Will asked, all politeness and propriety.

She smiled slyly. "Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?"

Reaching for her, he continued their game. "At least once more, Miss Swann, as always."

"Then," she answered, slipping her hands behind his neck, "I shall have to come around tomorrow – decidedly _without_ a chaperone – and find some way to convince you to take certain liberties with me."

Will smiled. "I love you, Elizabeth," he stated, his heart in his voice.

"And I've loved you since the moment I first laid eyes on you."

He kissed her tenderly and then watched her unbar the door and slip away into the night. For the both of them, their wedding could not come soon enough.

* * *

AN: I apologize for the redundancy if you'd already read that as a oneshot (although I did reedit a bit here and there), but I thought it was important to slip that into its context within this story. There are three more chapter still to come, plus an epilogue. I should have another new chapter up within the next few days.


	13. Transparent

AN: There is a flashback in this chapter that I tried to indent, but for some reason it wasn't working. I had to settle for merely putting it in italics but, just to be clear, it is a flashback and not taking place at that particular moment.

* * *

As the sun began to wane on the horizon line, Elizabeth sat in the front parlor with her father awaiting Will's arrival. With only five weeks before their marriage, the three had planned an intimate family dinner to discuss plans for the upcoming wedding and their future life together. Elizabeth also held high hopes that this informal gathering would help diminish some of the tension that had built in the past weeks. Inexplicably, it seemed, her father had suddenly grown downright unreasonable. Relations were a bit awkward and the situation somewhat delicate following his unexpected arrival in the garden those four weeks ago. However, as was often the case, she'd managed to wheedle her way back into her father's good graces, convincing him that such displays of affection were not nearly as scandalous as he might believe in these modern times and, after all, they were on the private grounds of the manor. In the end, Weatherby had agreed to overlook the slight indiscretion and, at his daughter's request, relented on the issue of a chaperone.

Yet only a week later, with no explanation at all, he abruptly reversed his decision, taking an even firmer stance then before by insisting they never be left alone together, even at the manor. The situation was utterly intolerable in Elizabeth's eyes, the lack of privacy leading the already impatient bride and her equally eager fiancé to grow more anxious by the day. Her father's sudden persistence that they adhere to social decorum and the proper rules of polite courtship _now_, so very close to their wedding day, was a mystery far beyond her.

However, Weatherby wasn't nearly as naive of the facts of his daughter's relationship with William Turner as she would have guessed or hoped. From the very start Elizabeth's courtship with the young man was unorthodox he knew, but from a young age his daughter had always skirted the boundaries of what was and was not proper with very little harm to her standing in society. Though it was difficult for him to loosen his standards for her, Elizabeth, though eccentric, truly was a good, decent person and he could see no wrong in allowing her this indulgence when it made her so very happy.

For her sake he tried his hardest to be a forward-thinking man, and he well understood that she was now a grown woman, no longer his little girl, but it still made him vastly uncomfortable when he caught Elizabeth in moments of love and passion with William, as he had that day in the garden. Many years may have come and gone, but he still vividly remembered the days of his own youth and was painfully aware of the ways of healthy, virile young men – so much so that it alarmed him slightly to leave his daughter alone with just such a man. Nevertheless, Elizabeth assured him that William would never attempt to compromise her and he must admit from what he had seen of the boy over the years he seemed to be a genuinely upstanding young man. So, by and by, he'd given in to her wishes, as he always did.

All of that changed the week following. In the past he had observed things here and there that made him take pause, but ultimately he'd expected such behavior of William as much as he expected his daughter to shy away from such advances. However, that fateful afternoon, he experienced a very rude awakening about his daughter's sexual awareness when, passing by the library, he observed a scene that remained unfortunately burned in his mind forevermore.

_Will stood backed against a shelf of books as Elizabeth pressed her body to his, engaging him in a zealous kiss. As passion took over, Will moved from her mouth, placing a string of kisses along her throat. Reaching up and weaving her fingers into his hair, Elizabeth led his face to the edge of her bodice, tilting her head back with complete abandon as she held his lips to the swell of her breast, whispering his name. "Elizabeth," Will murmured weakly, "we must stop."_

_"But I find that I cannot; I will not. I want you now," was his daughter's wanton reply._

_A deep, guttural laugh rumbled from Will. "In the library?"_

_"Why not? No one ever comes in here but me, and you'll find the ottoman is quite comfortable," she encouraged, lunging after his lips. _

_"Elizabeth," Will repeated, gently removing himself from her arms, "I believe you're speaking in jest but, as you've noticed, my body does not know the difference...It's but a few weeks until our wedding. We mustn't do anything now to spoil the beauty of that night." _

It was horrifying to behold and the very instant he was certain his daughter's innocence was safe he fled the area, his mind and heart racing. The scene made it perfectly clear that, at least on this occasion, it was his daughter who was leading the seduction. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but think that William, on some level, must be responsible for his girl's sudden carnality. Just _what_ the young man had done to her to awaken such thoughts and feelings Weatherby feared to know.

Armed with this new, distressing knowledge nothing could possibly convince him to leave the two of them alone together; there was no telling what either one of them might do. In the weeks that followed, he had witnessed enough – even leaving the room for but a moment – to be certain of that. While he could no longer be so completely shocked over similar comments and actions from his daughter, he continued to find them startling. Polite woman simply did not behave in such a way – even after their marriage. He only wished her mother was still alive to discuss the matter with her.

Yet if the governor expected his restrictions to cool their libido, he was greatly mistaken. By robbing them of time alone together, he only further increased their sexual frustration, heightening their enjoyment of every forbidden kiss and making stolen moments that much more exciting. If such moments hadn't grown so few and far between, Elizabeth would have relished the illicitness of it all. As it was, she took advantage of this time with her father to address the issue.

"Father," she began carefully, "I thought before Will arrives we could discuss our current situation. I'm sure you know there's no need for the two of us to be so constantly chaperoned. You seemed to understand as much in the past……which is why I had hoped tonight we might – "

"My understanding in the past was not always what it should have been," Weatherby interrupted.

Elizabeth's brow furrowed, not at all approving of the turn in the conversation. "I'm not following," she replied cautiously.

"I am not nearly as ignorant as you suppose, Elizabeth."

"What – whatever do you mean, Father?" she asked, attempting a lightness in her voice.

"You needn't pretend innocence where William Turner is concerned," Weatherby sternly answered. "You'll find it's wasted on me."

Elizabeth's false smile briefly faltered as a look of consternation clouded her features. Just what exactly had her father become privy to, she wondered, as her mind quickly sifted through any and all recent activities with Will that had taken place within the manor. She was fortunately saved the necessity of reply when the man in question entered the room and they all retired to the dining room, effectively putting an end to the discussion.

Always well-mannered, even when circumstances might push him to the contrary, Weatherby attempted to make polite conversation throughout the meal. "How is your work at the forge, William?" he asked, if somewhat tersely.

"Prosperous, sir, very prosperous. There's not a day that goes by without a new order of some sort," Will answered as respectfully as possible. He wasn't certain just exactly what it was he had supposedly done but, by the man's change in manner along with his recent insistence on chaperoned visits, it was obvious that the governor was upset about something directly involving him.

"I am glad to hear that business is lucrative. And the house? Are preparations well in hand?"

"I'm happy to say they are," Will answered proudly. "The painting is finished and the draperies have been hung. All that remains is to begin moving in the furniture."

Annoyed, Elizabeth shoved another forkful of chicken into her mouth as she silently watched the exchange. As if being constantly spied upon was not bad enough, now Will must endure needless interrogation on his financial state and fitness as a provider? And who said she needed one? She was perfectly capable of providing for herself one way or another, if need be.

She looked to Will who, seeming to read her mind, gave her a longsuffering smile. He truly did not mind Weatherby's unexpected scrutiny. He only wished he knew what was behind it.

"You have been unusually quiet," Weatherby said, addressing his daughter. "I am certain William will wish to hear how your wedding plans are progressing – or at the very least he'll feign interest, as is his duty as the groom."

Will and Elizabeth exchanged a look, unsure if her father's comment was meant to be a jab and, if so, at whom.

"The plans are coming along quite well," she said. "My dress and trousseau have arrived from England and are undergoing final alterations as we speak. I know," she added, giving her fiancé a devilish look, "Will has been particularly interested in its progress."

Will glanced over at Elizabeth, an answering gleam of mischief in his eyes, knowing she covertly referred to their conversation months ago when she'd promised him all of her undergarments and nightdresses would be ordered 'scandalously transparent'. "I have at that," he replied, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "I especially look forward to seeing you in it."

It was apparent, even to the governor, from the couple's manner of speech and the way they looked at one another that there was something deeper to the conversation than merely discussing her wardrobe but he knew not what, mistakenly assuming they found sport in the notion that any man beyond a dandy would take a special interest in his wife's attire.

"Well, I suppose you are right," Weatherby said, laughing lightly. "Very few young men take notice of such things, but there is no harm in teaching William now to be an attentive husband. My darling Margaret tried so with me all of her life, but I'm afraid I failed her."

"I'm sure you did not, Father," Elizabeth softly contended, meeting his eye. Turning to her beloved, she set down her knife and fork to take his hand. "And neither could Will. He has been the very picture of attentiveness towards me since we were children, ever happily playing pirates with me though I know he loathed the game, often following me into mischief though his honorable nature begged against it. I'll freely confess, many is the time I led him astray."

Weatherby appeared to choke slightly on his bread. "Unfortunately, my dear, I can readily believe that."

Elizabeth smiled apprehensively, while Will could only look to her in confusion at what he was missing. The return look she gave him, letting him know she would inform him later, clearly conveyed this was a subject best closed.

"Elizabeth was always a free-spirited young girl, it's true. She remains so to this day," Will diplomatically injected, the carefully chosen words nevertheless steeped in love. "It's one of the many qualities I've always admired in her."

"Perhaps," the governor conceded, "but not the easiest temperament to raise, especially without her mother present to guide her in the delicate matters of adolescence. But, one day, I expect she'll get a little of her own back following the birth of my first grandchild. I know that's one thing I can count on the two of you to provide me with several of."

Will and Elizabeth exchanged another glance, this one filled with surprised amusement, as they each seemed to ask of the other if her father had truly meant what they supposed he did.

"Well then," Will said, clearing his throat, "it seems we're largely finished here. As I journeyed to the manor, I couldn't help noticing what a lovely evening it is. Perhaps we all might take a turn in the garden?"

"That seems a fitting idea," Weatherby replied, rising from the table and prompting them to follow suit, "but I'm afraid I'm somewhat weary from the day, matters of state and all taking up the greater part of my afternoon."

"Of course, Father, if you're too tired, you mustn't join us," Elizabeth offered sweetly. "Will and I can easily entertain ourselves."

"Undoubtedly," the governor responded austerely.

Ignoring her father's gravity, Elizabeth seized the opportunity for some much wanted privacy with her fiancé, hurriedly taking his arm and hastening from the room.

"I'll just send Mary along to attend to your needs," Weatherby called after them.

Will and Elizabeth dashed to the garden, alone at last – if only temporarily – breathing a sigh of relief.

Turning to his fiancée, Will finally voiced the question that had plagued him all night. "What was that about?"

Elizabeth immediately understood him to be referring to her father's troublingly spot-on comments – that is, if they weren't reading too much into them. Pulling her arm from his she, instead, slipped them both about his shoulders, his hands shortly thereafter making their way to her waist. "I'm afraid there may be more to my father's wanting us to be continually chaperoned than we originally thought." He regarded her intently, encouraging her to continue. "It goes beyond just a sudden sense of propriety, Will….I think perhaps he may have overheard something…… He seems to doubt the preservation of my virtue if the two of us are left to our own devises."

Looking down at Elizabeth as she played at his lapels, he playfully stated, "I wonder what would ever give him such an idea."

"Are we truly as transparent as that?"

"I believe we are," Will replied, pulling her closer. "I can't help but look at you with burning desire in my eyes. You are Venus, an angel, a goddess – a mischievous, wayward, piratey sort of goddess, but a goddess nonetheless," he teased. "The thought of taking you in my arms and holding you, kissing you, touching you is endlessly exciting. I _thrill_ at the very idea that soon I can……" He stopped short, finding the thought alone dangerously stimulating, even more so as he held her in his arms.

"You can do what, Will?" she whispered, her hands gliding down his chest. "Tell me of what you'll soon do, for I wish to be thrilled as well." He hesitated, but she could see the fire she'd kindled in his eyes warning of a forthcoming eruption. "We're to be married, after all," she coaxed. "There can be no harm in merely speaking of such things."

"Yes, but speaking of it will lead to engaging it in – and that pleasure can't be mine for another five weeks," he answered, his hands nevertheless slipping to her hips.

"Mmm," she purred, nuzzling her cheek against his, "perhaps I _do_ often lead you astray."

"You cannot lead where I would not willingly follow," Will replied, his lips teasing her ear.

"You know," Elizabeth sighed, his breath on her neck making her wild with longing, "I truly don't mean for our every conversation to come back to the topic of you making love to me."

Sensing her desire, he softly kissed her neck before pulling back to look into her eyes. "And yet it always does."

"That is because it so greatly occupies our minds – yours, Mr. Turner, as well as mine."

Inching closer, Will whispered against her lips, "A truth I shall not even attempt to deny."

"Come away with me, Will," she enticed. "Some servant or another is bound to return soon, and I can't bear to be proper with you a moment longer."

"Where?" he asked, favorable to the idea, but wondering at the logistics. "I'm afraid the damage would be irreparable if we were discovered at the smithy, and it's only a matter of time before he sets someone out after us. We can't afford to go far."

She frowned, her arms twining about his neck as her fingers massaged his scalp. "To the lake then. We can be alone there."

He looked down at Elizabeth, wanting nothing more than to follow her to the ends of the earth. She truly was a beguiling creature. How could he refuse her anything? He certainly had no desire to refuse her this. He was as eager as she to make up for time lost over dreary puzzles and meaningless conversation with the governor.

"All right," he agreed, moving from her embrace toward the ivory wrought iron patio table. With a roguish smile, he abruptly snatched its linen cloth, garnering a slight gasp from his astonished companion. "We may be half mad with desire for each other, but we are yet civilized. My fiancée will not be pressed into the grass."

With that, Will took hold of Elizabeth's hand and led her off towards the edge of the property, her eyes wide with excitement at the notion that he intended to 'press' her into anything. They all but ran to the banks of the lake, filled with intoxicating excitement – both at the element of danger and the knowledge that they would soon be in each other's arms. Safely arriving at the gently lapping waters, they took a moment to look about, ensuring they had not been followed.

Turning back to Will, Elizabeth smiled giddily, thrilled at their success. Her giddiness was matched by an adorably goofy smile of his own, but all frivolity came to an end as her eyes slowly drifted to his lips, causing his to slip to hers. She reached her hand up, running the pads of her fingers along the corner of his mouth, teasingly trailing her index finger across his lower lip. Will, however, caught her by surprise by taking the finger into his mouth and nipping at it lightly. A low, sultry laugh escaped Elizabeth as she moved to close the remaining distance between them, but he stepped back away from her. She cocked her head to the side regarding him curiously, wondering why he avoided her advances when they were now utterly alone with no one to reprimand them.

With a sudden flourish, Will spread the cloth across the grass, just as quickly reaching for Elizabeth, bending her in his arms, and bringing his lips down to hers. Never breaking contact, he scooped her up into his arms, simply cradling her against him for a moment before dropping to his knees and gently laying her across the soft linen, Elizabeth swiftly pulling his body atop hers. As the kiss intensified, she curled her leg about his calf, one hand slipping beneath his shirt to knead the flesh of his lower back while the other firmly gripped his hip. With a strangled groan, he abruptly rolled off of her to lie on his back beside her, eyes tightly closed, struggling to breathe deeply.

At this phase of their relationship, only weeks from the alter, Elizabeth was well acquainted with the limits of Will's restraint. There would always come an instant in their passionate moments together where his desire would crescendo to a point of either tearing her clothing off and making love to her then and there or very quickly removing himself from her. Sometimes this instant would come after long sessions of kisses and love upon the sand, and other times it would come after mere minutes in his arms. She often wondered if this zenith was prompted by some subtle difference in the way she kissed and touched him or if it was merely a result of the particular mood he was in. Either way, she had discovered it was best to allow him time and space to regain control lest he do something that she would no doubt thoroughly enjoy but he would hate himself for afterwards.

"Elizabeth," Will breathed at length, opening his eyes to stare blankly up at the heavens, a feral look still ablaze within them. "What you do to me."

Pleased at his desire for her, she moved onto her side to face him, wishing to tease him a bit. "Do you propose we take to the swords, then?"

"To what purpose?" he asked, turning to look at her, his eyes losing some of their wildness as they met hers. With a hint of amusement in his voice, he added, "As you once told me, it is no proper substitute – not the same at all – and you aptly illustrate the point each time we're together."

"You would be victorious anyway," Elizabeth replied, pouting slightly at her inability to fairly defeat him at swords. Feeling his conciliatory hand on her upper thigh, she smiled giving herself over to his adept touch. "It seems you have the advantage over me in many ways."

"No," he said warmly. "You bested me long ago. The moment I first looked into your eyes I was conquered."

"By me?" she asked with diversion, as such a defeat – on the damp deck of a ship at the tender age of twelve – had been unintentional and she had lived in complete ignorance of the fact for years.

"Yes, by you, everything about you, even then. You completely overwhelmed me, captivated my very soul. I was yours from the start," he freely admitted.

She ran her eyes along the length of his body. "And such a prize," she answered rolling atop him, her legs playfully bent upward at the knee. She looked down at him, her loose hair falling in a cascade around them. "Whatever shall I do with you now?"

Will reached up into her gentle curls, resting his hand on the back of her neck and pushing her mouth down onto his. Their kiss deepened and Elizabeth's legs slowly fell onto his as her body melted against him. His tongue tantalizingly caressed hers, inducing a soft, pleased mew from his fiancée. In response, he deftly reversed their position so she was beneath him once more. Breaking the kiss, his eyes locked with hers as he brushed her hair aside, grazing his fingertips across her neck at a tortuously slow pace. Just as her eyes fell closed, he replaced his fingers with his lips, biting and suckling at the now bare skin. Elizabeth turned her head at an angle exposing more flesh to his mouth and tongue, encouraging him in the action despite the risk of leaving telling evidence of their activities. She didn't care what her father or anyone else thought or said. They didn't know how Will could make her feel. She felt his breathing grow increasingly labored and couldn't help but smile at the irony; all the ways he pleased her also brought pleasure to himself. She supposed that was the mark of a perfect relationship.

"Will," she sighed breathlessly as he continued to kiss her, "will you always love me?"

His lips stilled against her skin and he slowly pulled back to look at her incredulously. "Elizabeth, you are my everything, my world," he said with tender sincerity. "I will love you until my dying day and beyond, forever, for all eternity."

"No, I – Well, yes, of course I know you love me," she said, smiling affectionately. "I – I meant….." She hesitated, searching for the right words. "Will it always be like…._this_? Will you always want me this way? Even after I've spent night after night with you for years to come?" She looked down pointedly, drawing Will's attention to his hand resting lovingly at her slender waist. "After I've given birth to our multiplicity of children and my girlish figure has been ruined?"

He bent down and softly kissed the tip of her nose. "I love your body, Elizabeth. I won't pretend otherwise, but my desire for you is based on so much more than simply the way you look. And," he continued, his hand leaving her waist to gently stroke her check, "no matter how you may or may not change in the future, you will always be beautiful to me – even more so for having given me that house full of children." Will paused to adoringly kiss her lips. "The very thought that my passion for you could ever cool," he gently chided. "The day will never come. I will _always_ want you and _always_ have you actively in my bed – very actively – until we're too old and feeble to do so."

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose at such a thought, but agreed nonetheless. "And I will always have you in mine." With a naughty giggle, she suggestively added, "I'll _have_ you everywhere, in every room of the house – and then we shall move to the beach and the garden….and the smithy."

She arched up off the ground to seek his lips, but he pulled back just out of reach. "Even though I'm to blame for keeping you with child year after year and 'ruining your figure', as you say?" he teased.

"Yes, even though. But I have a fair suspicion _I'll_ be the one to blame as often as you. A trim waistline is hardly worth forgoing such pleasures as you provide."

Will smiled widely. "I believe, love, that's what the man is meant to say to the woman."

"I pity those women. Apparently their husbands are nothing at all like you," Elizabeth scoffed, pulling him back down and kissing him soundly.

* * *

AN: You may have noticed that I had Weatherby repeat a line from DMC in this chapter. It was purposefully done to explain what I feel is a marked change in his behavior towards Will from the end of CotBP to the beginning of DMC. By the end credits of CotBP, Weatherby seems to have accepted Elizabeth's choice of Will, telling her not to marry Norrington for the "wrong reasons", commenting on Will's lowly occupation but, nevertheless, walking off and leaving Elizabeth in his arms – with a slight smile on his face, nonetheless. Yet, by the jail scenes of DMC, Weatherby is consistently saying that "you can't count on William Turner" and encouraging his daughter to leave him behind, insisting despite her protestations that he is "a better man than you give him credit for" that "now is not the time to pretend innocence". My assumption was this was more than simply the words and actions of a distraught father and that something may have occurred between the two films to somewhat sour Weatherby's inclinations and thoughts towards Will. My suggestion in this chapter is that the change is due to Weatherby's belief that something improper has more than likely occurred between Will and his daughter before their marriage and that, in believing so, this conversation where Elizabeth insists Will is a good man and Weatherby counters with talk of "pretended innocence" was a repeat occurrence with them in the days leading up to the wedding. So, that's the back-story on why I went in that direction.

There are two more chapters to go, plus an epilogue, then I'll begin posting my next story, an as yet untitled sequel to the _Key To Immortality_. Thank you for reading and especially to all those who've left a review (And special thanks to my repeat reviewers. I can always count on you for feedback!).


	14. Surrender

AN: I had originally intended this to be one large chapter that spanned from a week prior to the wedding through to the day before. However, as I hadn't yet finished the latter half and everyone's waited so patiently (and I only anticipate further delays with the upcoming holiday) I decided to post the two halves as their own individual chapters. Though shorter, I hope you enjoy it on its own.

* * *

One week to the day before her wedding, Elizabeth had managed to procure her father's permission to go into town – accompanied by her maid, naturally – to oversee the arrival and delivery of the fine china the governor had ordered for her wedding reception. Of course, as lovely as the pattern was and as beautiful as the place settings would no doubt be, it was not china she was interested in seeing that afternoon. Through promises of free time and some good old-fashioned bribery courtesy of her pocket change, Elizabeth had secured an entire afternoon unchaperoned and nothing could stop her from dashing off to the smithy just as fast as her feet would carry her.

Will was delighted to see her and wasted no time in locking the door and enclosing her in his arms. Yet, after a single albeit thorough kiss, his fiancée informed him that, although she did not know what _he_ might have on his mind, she had come to him alone for a bit of wholesome swordplay and nothing more. The look on his face plainly revealed that he did not believe her but, ever the gentleman that he was and already greatly enjoying the game, he released her to slip into his room and change into her practice clothing.

Had she known what was going through his mind as he stood beside the forge imagining various scenarios of joining her in the bedroom and helping her undress, she would have dispensed with the preliminaries and skipped ahead to the ultimate destination to which their swordplay always led. Luckily for them both, as the past few weeks had produced several dire threats to their vow of premarital celibacy, she remained entirely ignorant of her fiancé's errant thoughts and continued to change, stepping back out into the workroom as innocent and untouched as before.

With no threat of unwanted interruptions to cloud their revelry, they spent the afternoon vigorously engaged in their preferred manner of foreplay. The match had already waged on for nearly an hour as each was enjoying the game too much to put an end to it by actually winning – and there was always the matter of what to do once a victor was declared, as the spoils they each desired were yet forbidden for another seven days. It appeared, however, the contest would soon be decided as Will had Elizabeth cornered against the wall, keen on receiving the rewards that _could_ be his. Yet she was not finished playing and, catching him by surprise, ducked beneath his arm, continuing the fight.

Will spun about just in time to parry her attack. "Touché, Miss Swann," he said. "But I will have that sword one way or another."

True to his words, he executed a flawless riposte, knocking the blade from her hands. Unwilling to admit defeat, Elizabeth quickly stooped to retrieve her weapon. Had his opponent been anyone else, Will's sword would have already been at their throat, halting any further progress, but at the moment he was distracted by the low dip of the tunic she wore and how, from her current bent position, it provided him with a scandalously ample view of her uncorseted bosom, heaving with each breath she took.

Grabbing her sword, more than a bit surprised that she had been able to pull off such a feat when Will was usually so quick to offensively strike, Elizabeth triumphantly rose to her feet, a clever retort on the tip of her tongue, but it was immediately lost when she saw the look in his eyes and followed their general path.

"William Turner!" she said, her voice awakening him from his reverie and bringing his focus back to her eyes. "Were you looking down my shirt?"

It was amazing the change a year could bring, and the once meek blacksmith who would never so much as take the liberty of calling her by her Christian name did not even bother to feign embarrassment or contrition at having been caught at such a shameless act. "If you don't wish me to," he brazenly replied, "you should not look half as enticing, or wear shirts that fall open so easily."

Her eyes sparkled with naked lust for a moment before she remembered the game and they quickly snapped back to righteous indignation. "Fiend!" she gasped, leaping forward into a lunge which he effortlessly blocked.

They leaped about the smithy in a feverish dance, the clanging of their swords providing the music, as the tension continued to mount without a release. It was eventually Will's superior footwork that secured his victory, as he shrewdly implemented a feint attack catching Elizabeth off guard and giving him the chance to reverse his motion and present from behind. He held her tightly to him, his right hand holding the sword against her throat, his left arm across her waist, pinning her left arm down and encircling her right wrist, leaving her completely immobile.

"Do you surrender?" he asked, the heady feel of her body against his making him want her fiercely.

"No," she said defiantly, but her breathlessness revealed her true enjoyment of her predicament, even if she had been defeated.

Will released her wrist, knowing she would not attempt to continue the fight, and began slowly stroking her arm from shoulder to wrist, repeating the action until he felt her body relax against his. Sliding his hand down over hers, he rubbed teasingly soft circles across the back of her hand with his fingertips, his gentle caresses stoking the fire that had already been lit, and she let her sword slowly slip through her fingers and onto the ground.

"Do you surrender?" he repeated huskily.

"No," Elizabeth replied, her voice wavering.

Will let go of her hand, wrapping his left arm low across her hips to hold her to him as his right hand still held his sword presented at her throat. Bending slightly, he nuzzled his cheek along her neck, letting her feel his warm breath on the sensitive skin before setting his lips to it, kissing her in such a way he had learned early in their courtship drove her wild with desire. He felt her breath quicken even further and heard her gentle gasp as he moved his lips to her ear, taking the lobe into his mouth and tracing it gently with his tongue.

"Elizabeth," he whispered with such yearning in his voice it made her knees weaken and she was glad for his supporting arm at her hip. "Do you surrender?"

"No," she sighed, letting her eyes fall closed as she waited for the seduction to continue.

Will looked down at her with amused affection, finding her actions endearing and more than willing to comply; he enjoyed their time together the most when she was eager for his touch and aroused from his attentions. "Elizabeth," he breathed, placing his hand at her ribcage and trailing it down her waist, hip, and thigh then back again in massaging strokes that left her trembling in his arms. "Surrender." He lowered his right arm, tossing his sword to the ground to free his hand to mimic the action on both sides.

Elizabeth's head fell back against his shoulder, and though her words did not admit surrender her body language announced her complete and utter abandon. Surely there had never been such a man, her mind murmured through a cloud of desire as he continued to touch and caress her. All else were at a disadvantage. No one could ever make her feel more like a woman. It was indescribable what he alone could do to her, causing her to want more and more of his touches, of his kisses, of _him_ and the incredible sensations he triggered within her. It made the promise of their upcoming wedding night, when such desires could at last be fully explored, seem all the more tantalizingly intense. She wondered if it was possible to die from too much pleasure. If so, she would surely never make it to the next morning.

Suddenly, Will spun her about in his arms, one hand supporting the back of her neck as the other remained at her hip pressing her against him. "I win," he whispered.

"That all depends on what the game is," Elizabeth said, crushing her lips to his.

The kiss was wild and insistent, both simultaneously taking and giving, but rather than slacking their lust each stroke of their tongues increased it and they found themselves once again at a point of choice: either live the full explosion or quickly douse the flame. Will's hand slowly slid down her neck slipping beneath the fabric of her shirt, seeking to finally feel that which the sight of had earlier thrilled him. Elizabeth broke the kiss in surprise at his unexpected action and his hand immediately stilled. She looked at Will, then down to his hand that hovered over the rise of her breast. Meeting his eye once more, there was a clear invitation in hers as she arched into his touch; after all, immoral as this was, it would not alter her chastity, and she wanted him so.

Will paused a moment, caught somewhere between lust and chivalry. At length, he withdrew his hand, placing it at her waist. "No," he said weakly. "We've made it all this time. We mustn't mar the purity of our love." Biting her lip in disappointment, she nevertheless nodded in agreement. "We're so close, Elizabeth, just a few more nights of celibacy to endure and then, I make you this promise, I'm going to utterly ravish you."

She shivered in his arms, a smile playing at her lips as she murmured, "You make it sound almost dangerous."

"No, love, never that," he replied, gently kissing her temple, "but once we're married and I needn't hold back any longer, the propositioning will be quite the other way around." He paused to lightly kiss the tip of her nose. "I don't see how I'll ever make it to the smithy," he added, moving his mouth to hers in a loving kiss. "I'll never be able to get enough of you," he whispered, drinking from her lips one last time. "I'm afraid you may grow tired of the endless proofs of my desire."

Elizabeth laughed seductively. "That's not possible. You just try to keep up with me, Mr. Turner."

Will sighed breathily. "Has any man ever wanted a woman as I do you?" He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing her in. "Here," he said, taking her hand, "I'd meant you to see this for the first time on our wedding day, but not _everything_ should have to wait until then."

He led her to his bedroom and she paused at the door, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"This is purely innocent," he said laughingly. "What I wish to show you is in my bureau. Besides," he continued with a lecherous quality to his voice, "if I wish to love you, I don't require a bed. I can think of a great number of places that will work just as well."

"Off the top of your head or as a subject of prior study?" she asked flirtatiously.

Smiling, he motioned for her to go ahead into the room and, doing so, she very soon found herself sprang upon and trapped against the wall, one of Will's arms on either side of her head.

"Don't tell me you haven't imagined a few," he murmured against her lips.

"I'm picturing quite a few right now."

Rewarding her reply with a kiss, he stepped back, walking to his bureau to retrieve a small cloth and placing it in the palm of her hand. "I finished it last week," he told her.

Elizabeth looked at him curiously, and then began to slowly peel back the layers of cloth to discover what lie beneath. When she did, she gasped. "You made this yourself?" she asked in astonishment to which he nodded. Carefully taking it between her index finger and thumb, she held it up for closer inspection. "Oh, Will," she proclaimed, her voice thick with emotion, "it's beautiful."

Will smiled proudly, pleased that she approved of the simple gold band.

"The design is so intricate," she continued as she admired it. "I had no idea you could craft jewelry, and something of this fine, delicate quality. Oh, and – " she cut off abruptly gasping again as she brought the ring closer. "Will, you've engraved it."

"_That_ was the most difficult part," he admitted sheepishly. "It took me months to complete."

"Months? How long ago did you plan this?"

"I've had it in mind since I first asked for your hand. I wasn't certain that I could do it justice," he confessed, "but I was determined to try my hardest for you."

"Will," she said, her eyes tearing up, "I can't imagine anything more perfect. But what does it say?" she asked holding the ring very close to her eyes and answering her own question. " '_To__ my angel, from her pirate_'." She smiled lovingly up at him. "Just when I thought it couldn't possible be more perfect, you go and find a way. I love you," Elizabeth said with tender sincerity.

"And I you," Will softly replied. "But," he added, taking the ring from her, "until I place this on your finger – in exactly one week's time – I'm afraid you can't yet have it." Placing it back in the palm of her hand, he delicately rewrapped the ring and returned it to his bureau for safe keeping until the day arrived.

"Will," she purred, slipping her arms about his neck as he arrived back at her side, "you're so good to me. It's infuriating when I think that Father won't allow you to see me unchaperoned, as if you are waiting for our very first instant alone to despoil me. It may not offend you, but it does me."

"Don't be offended on my account, darling, although it does become you," he replied kissing the corner of her mouth. "In all seriousness, Elizabeth, I truly don't believe it is a personal affront towards me. He's just being a good father. We I in his place, I would never leave you alone with such a dashing fiancé, either," he said impertinently, circling his arms around her waist.

"Father has much greater cause to worry for leaving _you_ alone with _me_. The very sight of you drives me to all sorts of depraved actions."

"Such as?" Will inquired, holding her closer. "I may require a demonstration to fully appreciate your meaning."

"I believe you recently had one beside the forge, but I would be more than happy to repeat the action," Elizabeth said, kissing him soundly, her fingers weaving into his soft curls.

Will reluctantly broke the kiss, lightly nuzzling her nose with his before pulling away. "It's late. Perhaps you'd better get back into those before someone misses you," he said, indicating her dress and shift laid neatly on his bed.

She nodded her agreement, but still held him tightly. "Will, we must vow to learn from our parents' mistakes when we have children of our own."

"How so, love?"

"My father cares for me dearly, but he's never understood me, always endeavoring to force me along the path of propriety. I know he only does so because he believes it is for my own good," Elizabeth said thoughtfully, "but, all the same, he has tried all of my life to mold me into something that I am not, that I could never be."

"That is true," Will conceded, "but he does mean well, and he loves you very much. That's exceedingly closer to the mark of what a father ought to be than mine. He abandoned myself, my mother, everything that should have been of the utmost importance to him. No matter what happens, Elizabeth, I will always be there for our children. I wouldn't want to miss a second of their lives."

"And you won't, for I shall never allow you very far from my arms."

"Nor you from mine."

"What sort of parents do you suppose we'll make?" she asked him as she sat down upon the bed and began removing her boots.

"You," he replied, kneeling to take over the task, "will be a perfect mother, affectionate and understanding, yet knowing every possible way our children might try to get around us – for you've tried them all yourself."

Elizabeth laughed, having no rejoinder for his playful words for she knew them to be true. "And you," she countered as he set the last boot aside and softly stroked her leg, "will be a proud, devoted, adoring father, gentle and loving in everything you do, yet strong and stern when the need calls for it."

Will smiled. "And of course you will teach them all the pirate song before they can even form words."

"Of course."

"I'm afraid the duty will fall to you to teach them how to behave in polite society, as I'm still learning its intricacies myself."

"Polite society," Elizabeth scoffed, "would that we never need enter into it again. But if you wish me to teach our children the rules of proper English etiquette, I shall. However, if such a wearisome task must be mine, than I leave it to you to explain to our son just exactly what it is that Mama and Papa do in their room late each night that causes Mama such fits of excitement."

Will laughed, wrapping his arms around her and bringing them both to their feet. "As long as you explain to our daughter why Papa is so very captivated by the plunging neckline of Mama's dresses."

"Still captivated though you've quite thoroughly beheld all there is to see each and every night?"

"And morning," he added.

"And afternoon."

Will grinned, pulling her closer. "I'm going to be _very_ lucky to have you as my wife, aren't I?"

* * *

AN: Now, with the slight change of plans, there will be three more chapters (two "regular" chorological ones, like their predecessors, and one epilogue that jumps a bit in time). I have to admit, as some of you have expressed in your reviews, I found writing some portions of this story (particularly its last three chapters) quite sad in light of what is about to occur and all that happens to them following. Will and Elizabeth are certainly longsuffering characters, and I'm very much looking forward to writing more of the happy ending they finally get to have after so many years of waiting.


	15. Pleasures Not Yet Tasted

The next three days flew by in a frenzy, Elizabeth busy with wedding preparations and Will helping her whenever he could spare the time from the last minute projects he had to finish before taking an extended leave of absence from the smithy. He had vowed they would not leave their bedchamber for at least a week following the wedding – save to christen various pieces of furniture in the other rooms of the house, as Elizabeth had amended – and he was determined to make good on his word. As diligent a worker as he was, nothing could keep him from their marriage bed, and any orders he did not finish would just have to wait.

Ironically, though they hardly had the time to be together, now they more than had the opportunity as Weatherby had relinquished his demand that a chaperone be constantly present to observe their behavior. With only four days remaining before they were safely wed, the governor believed the largest danger had passed. If his unfortunate suspicions were correct, it was too late to recover innocence already lost, but his daughter did not appear to be with child and the young man in question was still unwavering in his desire to marry her. Once they were lawfully wed, no one – regrettably, not even himself – could prevent William from enjoying Elizabeth whenever he pleased – or the other way around as he had come to learn the case may be. Until then, they simply must keep mum about whatever indiscretions had occurred and Elizabeth's reputation would not suffer any more than it already had from her unfortunate interlude with piracy and one Captain Jack Sparrow.

Thus, with Elizabeth going alone into town to pick up the final pieces of her trousseau, Will opted to take a short break from the smithy so they might spend a small slice of the early afternoon together. They planned to stop at the mansion to deliver her wardrobe – one particularly lacy and transparent nightdress resting at the top of the bundle to tease her fiancé with when he joined her in the carriage – before setting off on horseback to their new home, where Will had said there was something he wished to show her.

Arriving at the house, Will took Elizabeth's hand and quickly trailed through the now furnished rooms to the staircase. She had been about to oversee the decoration of the house, so its appearance came as no surprise to her. Indeed, by now she had seen every room in its finished state, all excepting one: the master bedroom, which Will had insisted on privately preparing for her. She was somewhat taken aback that he wished to reveal his handiwork before the wedding, but she was more than ready to see it – more than ready to make use of it in fact.

As he opened the door to show her inside, she was overwhelmed by what she saw. It was beautiful, more than any young bride could have dreamed. The décor of the room was perfect, more exquisite in her eyes than her bedchamber at the manor – growing ever more so by the second as she took note of the small details throughout the room that were obvious nods to her tastes and likings, from the oil painting of what one could only assume to be a pirate ship adjacent to her dressing table, to the delicate bouquets of lavender on the bedside tables. The bed itself was everything Will had said it would be, a paradise of silk and satin. Looking at it, she fully understood why he had wished to wait; he was trying to give her Eden. What he failed to realize was that he already did every time he touched her.

"Will," she sighed, turning to face him, "it's lovely……_Our_ room. _Our_ bed."

He smiled, savoring the moment as he wrapped his arms about her. "I suppose I should have saved the first glimpse for our wedding night but I thought, this way, if anything should fail to meet your approval I would have time to change it. I want everything to be perfect for you, Elizabeth."

"It already is," she replied with utter sincerity. "If we were to spend our wedding night in the hay pile of the smithy I would be pleased as long as you were there."

"Oh, I shall be there," he amorously declared. "Nothing could keep me away."

His mouth descended on hers for a warm and tender kiss that, as all of their kisses now did, quickly became passionately heated as his tongue traced her lower lip and she opened herself to him, deepening the kiss.

"Mmm," she murmured seductively against his lips, "we've ran through the ceremony close to one hundred times this week. Perhaps," she continued trailing her fingers down his chest, "we should have our own little rehearsal here. It would be much more exciting and terribly more beneficial."

"Exciting I'll grant you," Will agreed, his lips playing at her ear. "But dare I ask how it would be beneficial – beyond the obvious, of course?"

" 'The obvious' is what I'm speaking of," she said, biting down on her lip and clutching him tighter to her as he kissed his way down her neck. "I know it's sinful and unladylike, but I _need_ you, Will. The feelings you've awakened in me…..each kiss, each touch works them into a frenzy." She gasped as he sucked at the convergence of her neck and shoulder, continuing weakly, "They beg release, demand fulfillment – so much so that at times I can scarcely think straight. I need you to love me, Will."

He looked up from his amatory attentions to meet her eye. "And I shall," he whispered enticingly. "Believe me, love, I know what you are feeling, and I don't fault you for it. It is not 'unladylike' as you say. I love that you come alive in my arms. It is the most thrilling feeling I've ever known. And, come our wedding night, I shall love you, Elizabeth, in ways you haven't yet imagined."

She smiled, her cheeks flushed with desire and her eyes dancing at his boldness. "Are you certain, for I've imagined a great number of ways?"

He held her closer to him, nearly bringing his lips back to hers. "I'm going to kiss every inch of your body," he breathed, "and, when my lips have finished tasting you, my hands will –"

He was cut off as her lips crashed against his, vigorously kissing him with an eager intensity. Then, as swiftly as the kiss began, she abruptly removed herself from his arms.

"Oh, we must come away from here," Elizabeth said emphatically. "Until you are prepared to actually do so, it is too dangerous to remain."

Will kissed the back of her neck one last time and allowed her to lead him from the room.

"Do you suppose we will ever be able to sate our hunger for each other?" she asked him as they walked hand in hand down the stairs.

"Mine shall never be quenched, but," he said bending to murmur in her ear, "I promise we can spend a lifetime of nights and mornings trying, which is just as good."

"Better, in fact."

* * *

On this, the afternoon before their wedding, Elizabeth wished to spend every moment alone with Will. Later they would return to the Governor's Mansion and enjoy a family meal, the last Elizabeth would have at the manor as a Swann. Immediately following, Will was to return to the smithy, Elizabeth would be whisked away upstairs, and the two would not be allowed to see each other again until the ceremony began.

Neither of them could imagine a more fitting place to spend the afternoon than upon their beach, wrapped in each other's arms. Will lay lazily stroking Elizabeth's shoulder, his chest as her pillow. Placing a soft kiss to his neck, she rolled away to lie beside him on the sand, contemplating the fluffy white clouds as they drifted by.

"Do you ever think about time, Will?" she mused. "How it changes things? How it brought us to this moment?"

"Those are heavy reflections, my darling," he answered, turning and propping himself up on his elbow to better regard her. "What has brought them on?"

"The wedding. Thoughts of becoming your wife. Pondering all that is now different, all of the changes in my life."

"Good ones, I hope," he said.

"The happiest but, now that I consider it more clearly, it isn't time that has brought these changes, but you. I found myself in you long before we were ever together, and since we've declared our love I believe I've discovered myself a little bit more each day. My life was made up of pretending to want what I didn't, be who I wasn't, what I never could be. I was becoming quite numb inside. Only in the rare and precious moments spent with you could I be myself and come alive. And now that we're together," Elizabeth continued, looking up at him in adoration, "now that I have you with me always, I am free to be real and live that truth everyday. You will never require me to be what I am not, but always wholly love me for what I am. That is the most precious thing I could ever imagine."

Leaning down, Will pressed his lips to hers in a loving kiss. Pulling back, he simply held her gaze, lost in the sea of love in her eyes, too overcome with emotion to speak.

"How you have transformed my life," he said at length. "You speak of what I've done for you, but you – you…….I was nobody with nothing, going nowhere fast, drifting along on a course that would've been far different, and then came you. Everything from the moment I was pulled from the sea to this moment now……The things you've done for me, Elizabeth, when there was no cause to look at me twice – "

"You were cause enough," she softly interjected, gently running her fingers through his curls. "Don't praise me too much, Will. I wish I could say I fought for you, protected you, out of the kindness of my heart, but I'm afraid my motives were selfish: I loved you."

"I cannot think of a more selfless reason, for what did you receive in return?" he declared with conviction. "Looking back, I can now see the many times you tried to open yourself to me, to extend your hand, to offer your love. Yet I persisted in my formalities, but you still persisted in your kindness. Somehow, I was blessed enough that you should love me," he sighed, "and now, with you by my side, there is so much more than merely existing. You gave me a reason. _You_ are my reason, Elizabeth, to feel, to love, to fight, to try. You are the meaning in my life. And now things I never dreamed possible I live daily. Mere words could never capture the difference you've made in my life and all that you are to me. Because of you, I……" Will stopped, unable to articulate his feelings with words.

"Will, because of _you_ in my life," Elizabeth countered, "I have….."

"Everything," they both finished at once.

Elizabeth pulled Will down to her and kissed him soundly. "But not yet _everything_," she corrected. "_That_ will have to wait one more day."

Will laughed, framing her lovely face with his hand and smoothing back her hair. Elizabeth smiled at the action, winning a smile in return that made her melt inside. "Do you know," he said, "throughout the years since I met you, no matter what occurred or how difficult it has been, just seeing you never fails to brighten my day?"

"Come here," she whispered, bringing his mouth back to hers. "I wish to brighten your day further." She rolled them over so she now lay atop Will, kissing him teasingly, her tongue twining with his fleetingly before she pulled. "If but a single look accomplishes all that, what does a kiss such as our last do for you?" she asked impishly.

He bit back a groan as she pressed her body quite wickedly against his. "Things I dare not speak of."

She pouted. "Not even to me, who will very soon be your wife?"

With a quickness that surprised her, he deftly pounced upon Elizabeth, trapping her beneath him. "Then very soon," he said roguishly, "I promise to both speak of and demonstrate them." He bent to nip at her neck, earning a cascade of giggles from his fiancée.

Recovering, she jubilantly declared, "Ours is the very purest, greatest sort of love, Will. Stronger than either of us, for we both fought against it."

"Yes," he agreed, "everyone did. There is not an obstacle that our love hasn't already had to overcome: propriety, rank, my certainty that you would never think of me."

"My belief that you didn't want me," Elizabeth interrupted.

"My mistaken assumptions that you were in love with another man."

"Undead pirates," she said completing the list. "And then of course there was Jack."

Will smiled handsomely and kissed the tip of her nose.

Growing suddenly serious, she told him, "I've always loved you this way, Will, the tender sweetness that you reserve for me alone. There is a softness in your eyes that only appears when you look at me. I can't quite define it, but I see it now, and I treasure it."

"And I will always treasure your vibrant, playful sprit – the side of you no one else has the pleasure of seeing – and the happy, guilelessness of our moments together. I shall remember this moment all of my life and picture you this way, the Elizabeth that only I know…… How did I ever live without you? "

Elizabeth shook her head, lifting it to softly kiss the stubble on his chin. "I don't know. I suppose in the same manor I survived without you – very poorly and only half alive." A sudden shiver went through her, why she could not say. Thinking she was cold, Will held her tighter and his arms about her soon calmed and banished the mysterious sense of dread. "I can't imagine what I would do without you," she said as he cradled her in his arms. "I don't ever want to find out."

Will pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and the moment passed. As he felt her relax in his embrace, he loosened his hold on her. The movement caused the contents of her pocket to poke her outer thigh, and her face lit up as she remembered the gift she had brought for him. The excitement of her present restored Elizabeth to her former mischievous good spirits. She leaned in for another kiss than nudged at Will's shoulders.

"Let me up," she requested, saucily adding, "for a little while. I have something I wish to give you."

Will looked intrigued and with his hand still around her waist, he lifted them both up and watched as she buried her hand in the pocket sewn into her skirts. He could tell the very instant her fingers enclosed around the item she sought by the excited smile that curled across her full lips.

"You've given me so much, Will," Elizabeth said softly, "our home, my ring, your heart, your love. I wanted to give _you_ something."

"But you already – "

"Shh," she playfully scolded, placing her free hand across his lips. "Be gracious, Mr. Turner, and accept my gift."

"All right," he laughingly agreed, giving up on any further attempts at protest.

Withdrawing her hand from her pocket, Elizabeth took hold of his wrist and turned it so his palm faced upward, releasing the trinket into hand. Will brought his hand closer to examine the gift. A small silver medallion sparkled in his palm as it caught a ray of the bright afternoon sunlight. He carefully picked it up, inadvertently causing a sunbeam to reflect into his eye. The two laughed lightly as he blinked away the aftereffects, turning the medallion away from the sunlight to better view it. Elizabeth looked on in anticipation as his eyes followed the medallion's design. She had chosen this particular piece because of the delicate swirl etched onto the case that instantly reminded her of a wave, which in turn reminded her of the ocean and Will.

Will smiled gently, clearly grasping the connection. "It's a locket," Elizabeth began somewhat shyly, anxious for him to approve of the token. "Look – look inside," she added, turning it on its side and pointing out the opening.

Will keenly obeyed, his breath catching at what he discovered inside. "Elizabeth," he whispered in awe, "it's our engagement portrait."

"Yes, I took the painting Father had commissioned for the mansion and found an artist who could replicate it in miniature." She paused, looking back from the locket to read her fiancé's eyes. "Do you like it?"

"I shall never take it off, as I have never taken off this one," he replied, lightly touching his breastbone where her birthday gift currently hung.

"You said you would think back and envision this moment, but now you shan't have to merely imagine me," Elizabeth said, cupping her hand beneath his as they both turned their attention back to the portrait. "Anytime we are apart for the slightest moment, whether you are sculpting a sword or I'm off visiting Father so he might coo and fawn over his first grandchild, I will always be right there with you."

Will smiled. "I adore it, Elizabeth," he said lovingly. "Thank you."

"Come closer," she instructed to which he willingly complied. After having Will take off the necklace she'd given him, Elizabeth tied a small knot in the black string, attaching the locket so it hung several inches above the amulet.

"Perfect," she breathed, lightly fingering the locket as she ran her hands up his chest and behind his neck, in turning causing Will to weave his fingers into her hair and bring her mouth down to his for a tender, lingering kiss.

He gently ended the kiss, softly running his tongue across his lips to savor her taste. "Elizabeth," he sighed, "our vows tomorrow are beautiful, and formal, and proper for church, but there are a few more intimate vows I'd like to make to you now."

"Oh?" she said eagerly, scooting onto his lap and leaning down for a kiss.

"Not that sort of intimacy, my little pirate," he laughed as his hands came to rest at her hips. Becoming serious again, he looked deeply into her eyes. "I make you this promise, Elizabeth: You can always be yourself with me. I will always understand you and love you. No matter what may happen in the years to come, we need never hide anything from each other, great or small."

Elizabeth smiled, tears welling in her eyes and she thought about their lifelong dream finally becoming a reality. "And I promise you this, as strong as you are, I will always be right there for you whenever you need me, whatever for. You need only call my name and I will come to you without hesitation."

Will brushed his lips across her forehead. "And I will always be there for you as the years go by, to soothe you, to comfort you through life's pain, kiss every last tear away, give you all of me, and do whatever is in my power to ensure your happiness."

"You already have," Elizabeth whispered. "I am so happy, so lucky, Will. It is like a dream to be able to live the rest of my life with you."

A small, rebellious teardrop escaped her eye to slowly roll down her cheek and, true to his word, Will gently kissed it away. "Wherever this journey may lead us, Elizabeth, whatever situations we may face, always know that I love you above all else, and our love will find a way for us."

They tenderly kissed to seal the agreement. Breaking away, Elizabeth lightly sniffed, placing a soft kiss to his jaw as she opened the locket to gaze at the portrait once more. "We do look perfect together, don't we?" she said. "Like two halves making a whole."

"Yes," Will wholeheartedly agreed, "and now I shall always have my other half close to me. Although," he teased, "I must confess, I still prefer the genuine article but, in a pinch, your likeness will have to do. In all honesty, though, I cannot envision a time when I would ever willingly leave you, even for one night."

Elizabeth smiled happily, the thought of such a future absolutely heavenly. "That is true," she conceded, "but we must think of all possibilities. Remember the delivery you had to make but a few months ago? Perhaps someday your work will require you to go away again for a time and you will not be able to take me with you."

His eyebrow quirked upward; she had him there. Reaching down he deftly closed the locket, his finger gently caressing the medal before returning to her waist to mimic the action. "Perhaps I shall, but I promise you this," Will resolutely declared, "there is no place so far away that you could not feel my love for you, and I yours. Our love has always transcended distance, time, every obstacle. And I would return to you, always, my love."

Will turned Elizabeth in his arms to lie back against his chest as they sat overlooking the rolling sea.

"Tomorrow we'll be married," Elizabeth said overjoyed, scarcely believing the day was finally upon them. "We'll be married and we'll never again have to be apart."

Will lovingly kissed her temple. "And no one will ever take you from my arms."

A comfortable silence fell as they contemplated their past, present, and future. For a time, that was enough until, at length, the wind shifted carrying her lavender scent to dance across his nostrils. Bending, he buried his nose in her upswept hair and began softly stroking her arms. Elizabeth sighed at his gentle attentions, but soon his tender touch transformed into something slower and more caressing.

"Do you know," Will whispered in her ear, "tomorrow at this time the ceremony will be over, the reception will have finished, and I'll be taking you in the carriage to our home?"

Elizabeth closed her eyes, her breath quickening at his words and touch.

"Tomorrow, at this very moment," he said, his lips toying with her earlobe, "I'll be making love to you."

As if to underscore the point, he bent to avidly suck the junction of ear and jaw, and she shivered in his arms as his teeth gently grazed the sensitive skin. "Only a few hours more," she breathed.

Summoning up the thin remainder of his self control after so many months of wanting and resisting what he could net yet have, Will stilled his lips. "It's getting late," he sighed. "Your father will be expecting us."

Taking her hand, he helped her to her feet and would have begun the journey home had they not made the mistake of turning to looking at one another. Elizabeth was indescribably alluring as she stood there with sand on her skirts and love and desire alight in her eyes. The sexual tension between them was as palpable as the sea pounding to the shore behind them and Will could no longer hold back. Reaching out, he pulled her to him, kissing her deeply, his tongue sliding across hers, engaging her, tempting her until she pressed her body against his, clutching him to her fiercely. His fingers traveled up to her breast but he quickly arrested the impulse and diverted his hand to her lower back, holding her hips firmly to his and reveling in the answering sensation. His lips left hers to travel down her neck and she tilted her head back, arching into his body. He placed one last kiss to her collarbone before bringing his attentions back to her mouth for another taste of her. The kiss was passionate and enticing, more so tonight than ever before as they stood on the cusp of their new life together.

Elizabeth broke the kiss, an intense yearning in her eyes. "Will….I…..I want…."

"Tomorrow," he promised.

Her hot breath fell across his lips, teasing him, whispering of things to come.

"Tomorrow," she sighed.

Then he pulled away, leaving her wanting – needing – more. She looked up at him with half-lidded eyes and saw that he felt the aching need for her just as strongly, if not more so. With a slight smile, she murmured, "Tomorrow", a promise of pleasures not yet tasted.

* * *

AN: This chapter was my attempt at giving Will and Elizabeth the chance to say personal vows, as they would be robbed of the opportunity to say any at all the following day. It was also my nod to the DMC quote of poor Elizabeth feeling "_so_ ready to be married".

In answer to a reviewer's question, this story will delve into the very beginning of DMC, but that is all. I generally don't do stories that interconnect with the films, preferring to stick to "filling in the blanks" so to speak. I do have plans to eventually write a story that takes place in the year or so between DMC and AWE (which would have more Willabeth interaction than just a DMC fic, as they're hardly together in that film), but I have two other projects lined up before that one (first, the sequel to the _Key to Immortality_, and than a modern AU).

There are two chapters left. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the rest!


	16. Shattered Dreams

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* * *

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It could have been so beautiful  
It could have been so right  
But you can't hold what could have been  
On a cold and lonely night

* * *

Elizabeth awoke with the sun's first light, a rare occurrence for a young woman who loved to sleep well past eleven if the opportunity afforded itself – and, being the wealthy governor's daughter, it often did. However, this was a singular day, a day it she had been awaiting for what felt like forever. Today, she would become Elizabeth Turner, a dream that just a short year ago seemed impossible. There was much to do and, though her soft warm bed had served her well over the years as a haven for hers dreams and imaginings of one William Turner, she was indescribably thrilled that tonight she would find contentment in a far more desirable bed, in the arms of the object of her longings.

With a giddy smile accompanied by a soft giggle, she stretched and rose from the bed, ringing for her maid. As the servents bustled about preparing her a warm bath, Elizabeth was certain they thought her mad, first for being up at this hour and second for being absolutely delirious with pure and utter happiness. She laughed softly to herself as they left her to her bath, exchanging puzzled stares as they withdrew from the room. She didn't care what they thought; nothing and no one else mattered except her handsome fiancé in the town below, who she was certain had long since been awake and was also thinking of her.

What a pair they made, Elizabeth thought as she sank further into the foamy water, letting the sea of fragrant bubbles envelop her shoulders. What an ideal couple they were and what a perfect future stood before them. They would have their happy home, their beautiful children, and the life they had always imagined. But that was yet in the distant future. At the moment, her mind and heart were much more intrigued by thoughts of the _immediate_ future, particularly the night to come. She loved Will immeasurably, and wanted him just as much. The feelings he had awakened within her were passionate, primal, exquisitely intense, and impossible to deny. It was intoxicating to know that, after today, she would no longer have. She could scarcely wait – and very nearly hadn't – to explore those feelings further, discover where they lead, finally reach the culmination of these carnal desires, and fulfill her aching yearnings at last.

Still, while she understood the mechanics of it all and was no longer a complete stranger to Will's body, or he to hers, it was yet something of a mystery to her, elusive uncharted territory beyond her full comprehension. As she sat in the warm water imagining all that tonight would bring, it surprised her to discover that, as much as she desired and anxiously awaited that which would come before – and she _certainly_ desired it – Elizabeth found she was the most captivated by the thought of simply lying naked in Will's arms, his bare chest as her pillow, her skin pressed against his, surrounded by the warmth of his body as he softly stroked her waist, whispering tender words of love into her ear.

With a sigh, she reached for the towel left on the table beside her and emerged from the soapy waters, wrapping herself in its soft layers until she could do so with the one whose warmth she truly desired.

After dressing in the light frock she would wear to the fort – as it had been decided it was best to fully prepare in a room on the premises so as to avoid unfortunate wrinkling or any other slight marks to her appearance – she sat at her dressing table fingering the teardrop pearl that hung from the small gold chain now around her neck. It had been a present from Will. He'd given it to her at dinner the evening before, a pre-wedding gift he thought would look lovely with her dress and, as he'd pointed out, the pearl's connection to the sea made it the perfect adornment for a bride who had met her groom upon it.

Following her bath, his necklace was the first thing she had put on and she would ensure it would be the last thing removed tonight. Perhaps she would even leave it on as Will made love to her – yet another delicate golden reminder that she belonged to him now, as she had always wished to…..On second thought, she amended, a wicked smile dancing across her features, as lovely a trinket as it was, it would only get in the way; she wanted nothing keeping his lips from her body.

Her mind was absorbed with such thoughts when a slight knock came at her door, followed immediately thereafter by the entrance of the governor. Elizabeth jumped at the sudden interruption, her checks coloring a becoming hue of pink at the startling transition from such wanton imaginings to her father's abrupt appearance before her.

He chuckled softly at her surprise. "Did I startle you, my dear?"

"No, no," she said, quickly. "I was just engrossed with thoughts….of the day."

Weatherby's brow faintly wrinkled. They had rehearsed many times, but perhaps in her anxious excitement his daughter was growing nervous. After all, it was a monumental occasion, the highlight of every young woman's life. "Of the ceremony?"

"Yes," she replied overly brightly, "I was thinking of….the ceremony."

"Well, I am sure all will go as planned."

She smiled her agreement and watched as he hesitated, apparently debating his next words. At length, he sat down upon her bed and she turned in her chair to face him.

"I wanted to talk with you before the wedding," he began soberly. "While I can yet think of you as my little girl……before I give you to another man."

Elizabeth looked at him with concern, but silently waited for him to continue.

"I know it was difficult for you, growing up without your mother. I tried my best to give you all that you needed, but there were things she could have imparted to you, a role she would have played that I could not…..did not…..Perhaps I should have had someone speak to you of….the responsibilities of marriage when you first became of age, but I hadn't – "

"Father," Elizabeth interrupted somewhat desperately, averting her eyes from his. "I…..I'm not entirely…..That is to say, I….." She cleared her throat, inwardly struggling for some measure of control over her nervous babbling. "……I – I wholly understand the….'responsibilities of marriage'…..Such a conversation won't be necessary."

She dared to look up and meet his eye. Uncertain of rather her assurance of knowledge was a mark of her preparation for marriage or an admittance of his worst fears – that his daughter already had firsthand experience on the subject – the governor looked for a moment as if he wished the floor to swallow him up, then he soldiered on, feeling the matter best left closed.

"Good, good," he said, hurrying on. "I shall move on then to what _I_ wish to say to you."

"All right."

"You know," he said carefully, "I have not always approved of your choices."

"Father," she began warily, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"You know I wished…." He paused searching for a more appropriate word than 'better'. "…._Different_ things for you."

"Father," she interrupted again, not liking the turn this conversation had taken. Was this a last minute attempt to change her mind? "Will is – "

"Please, hear me out," the governor interjected, appearing to have anticipated her immediate, fierce defense of the boy. "All of your life, when you would have left and I would insist upon right, I only had your best interest at heart, Elizabeth; you must believe that. But I see now, though your choices have always been unconventional, perhaps they were best for you after all, for a see a level of happiness in you that I have never before witnessed……You truly love him, don't you?"

"I do," she confirmed sincerely, adding a truth that perhaps would hurt him, but he seemed to need to know all the same. "More than anything."

"Then you've made the right choice. Love – honest, true, all-consuming love – does not come along very often, and it has a way of slipping through our grasp far too soon. You must hold on to it while you have the chance. Believe me," Weatherby said sadly. "I know all too well of what I speak."

"I know, Father," Elizabeth replied, taking his hand. "And I will. Nothing shall ever keep me from Will. I wouldn't let it."

"Well then," he said, helping her to her feet, "let us go downstairs and have some breakfast, and before you know it we'll be off to Fort Charles to begin your new life."

* * *

They set out for the fort just after eleven. With the wedding beginning promptly at one, that left Elizabeth more than enough time to prepare. Everything seemed to be going perfectly – except for the ominous black clouds rolling in on the horizon. Having grown up in the warm, tropical climate of the Caribbean, she was accustomed to rain and even thunderstorms popping up quickly from what had previously been a beautiful, sunny day. However, the speed at which these dark clouds were moving in set them apart from any she had seen before. As she had the afternoon prior, she felt a mysterious sense of dread creep across her heart, this one stronger than before. Doing her best to shake off the inexplicable feeling of trepidation, she forced her eyes away from the sky to the fort ahead……Perhaps they would be lucky, she thought, and the rain would hold off until after the reception.

* * *

In her small room at Fort Charles, Elizabeth adjusted her veil for what felt like the hundredth time. The ceremony was to have begun more than thirty minutes ago, but Will was nowhere to be found. The governor sat with his daughter, trying to hide his own nervous fears as he attempted to comfort and cheer her.

"I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation for his tardiness," Weatherby offered. "Perhaps it has something to do with this blasted weather."

The dark clouds that had once been on the horizon were now ensconced overhead, threatening a downpour at any moment. As if that were not enough, a turbulent wind had accompanied them, blowing sand into the eyes of the impatient wedding guests and wreaking havoc on the floral arrangements.

"It doesn't matter," Elizabeth said. "He'll be here….soon."

"No doubt. No doubt," her father agreed. "And perhaps the storm will simply blow over."

She nodded. "Anyhow, rain on your wedding day is said to bring good fortune," she joked mirthlessly.

She said no more after this and the governor left her to her thoughts, glancing worriedly at the door.

Despite her words to the contrary, a voice inside of Elizabeth screamed that something must be wrong, something terrible. Will would simply not be late, for whatever reason – least of all inclement weather – to the event he had dreamed of and wished for from the moment he first laid eyes on her those nine years ago. Something truly ghastly must have happened. There was no other explanation for his sudden disappearance.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of a commotion outside – one loud enough to carry through the heavy doors of her room. She exchanged a look with her father.

"I'll go and see," he said solemnly.

The door clicked back in place, leaving her alone in the room to anxiously await word of Will's arrival, the cause of the sudden uproar amongst the guests – and if the two were somehow related. The horrible, menacing sense of imminent calamity resurfaced, warning her….mocking her. She tried dismissing the nagging thoughts, but they would not diminish or retreat. She _must_ know what was happening and she must know _now_.

Stepping from the sanctuary of the room she had been confined to for the past two hours, she made her way across the courtyard to stand beneath the portico, her eyes alighting on the sight that had minutes before met her father's eyes – a sight so enthralling all of her guests had abandoned their seats to find a better view. At the docks in the town below, impressively large ships – what appeared to be an entire fleet of them – bearing the flag of the East India Trading Company were sailing in. An advance party must have already docked, as the streets of Port Royal were teaming with officers and men of the company.

Elizabeth shook her head in horror and disbelief – yet she knew it to be true; for whatever reason, these men had Will. That is why he hadn't come.

As if in confirmation of the disastrous truth, the skies opened up, dropping a fierce, cold torrent of rain on the bystanders below. Her shrieking guests began to seek cover. Even the musicians deserted their posts, leaving their music to scatter in the wind. Ignoring all formal procedure and hanging propriety, Elizabeth walked out into the garden against the current of her fleeing guests, ignoring their stares or the occasional beckoning that she return to the shelter of the fort.

She quickly became drenched from the frigid, brutal downpour, the weight of her already heavy dress impossibly increasing and each step becoming ever more arduous. Nevertheless, she walked on past the rows of chairs neatly lined on the grass, down the center of the cobblestone aisle, to stand beneath the arbor where she was to have become Will's wife.

Huddled underneath the protection of the portico, her horrified guests looked on as – abandoned at the alter or perhaps even worse – the governor's daughter, apparently mad with shock and grief, appeared to have momentarily taken leave of her senses.

Clutching her bouquet, Elizabeth dropped to her knees, oblivious to the torrential rain. How, she wondered, how could everything have changed in a matter of hours? The terror, the ominous dread taunted her, repeating over and over that this wedding would never take place, she would never be his wife, she was not destined for such happiness. Staring blankly ahead, one overwhelming thought filled her mind until she finally voiced it aloud.

"Why is this happening?"

But her words were swallowed by the wind and rain.

* * *

Will was to have been married to the love of his life. Tonight, he was to have held her in his arms – in _their_ bed – her long, perfumed hair spilling across his chest. At this very moment, forever was to have begun. Now those dreams lie shattered with the click of a lock as they were roughly thrown into adjacent cells in Fort Charles's guardhouse.

He had not seen the governor since the arrest warrants had been served. No doubt the man was off attempting to rectify this debacle, but Will feared there would be no easy way out – too much about this bore the mark of careful calculation. A year had gone by since the incident with Jack. Had the crown truly been interested in taking legal measures they would have done so long before now. To wait until their wedding day, to time it so carefully, parading him through the grounds, bringing him to his own wedding in chains…There was a ruthless cunning to it all.

Yet every thought that flooded his mind as the cell doors swung into place, every plan to free them he had already begun to formulate, came to a grinding halt as he glanced over at Elizabeth. She was standing near his cell, still soaked from the rain, beads of water dripping from the ends of her hair, gazing at him through the bars. Her beautiful face held the look of pure devastation, a sight that would be forever burned into his mind. He made himself a promise then and there that this man, Beckett, would be held to blame for what he done to her.

Will slipped his hands through the bars, holding them out to her and she closed the remaining distance, clutching his arms. One lone soldier stood guard at the bottom of the staircase, but mercifully kept his distance, either out of respect for the position Elizabeth held in the community or pity; it didn't matter either way.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," she said softly. "I was supposed to be your wife by now."

Her voice sounded so lost and broken. Will reached out for her, his hands finding her waist, holding her as best he could.

"My darling," he whispered. "I am so sorry." He turned to press a gentle kiss to her temple. "So very sorry."

His poignant sincerity roused her from her sadness and, with the need to reassure him, she found strength. "No. This is not your fault. It's….It's no one's."

"Do you know this man?" Will asked her. "Your father seemed to."

"I – I don't know," she replied defeatedly. "I never paid much attention to Father's acquaintances, especially those who lived in London." She looked up at him inquiringly, knowing there was a purpose to his question.

Reading her thoughts, he told her what she wished to know. "There's more to this than punishment for helping Jack escape……He wants something for us."

Elizabeth nodded in silent agreement, sniffing gently. It pained Will to know she was fighting back tears and he nestled her more closely to him, cursing the bars that kept her fully from his arms. His heart broke to see his beloved this way, shackled in a dingy jail cell, the bridal gown she had so carefully selected soiled beyond repair, a look of agonizing pain in her eyes. That is when he realized: this was all a part of Beckett's cunning, manipulative scheme. The best way to hurt Will was through Elizabeth, and that's precisely what he was doing, placing them so close, but not together, forcing him to sit helplessly and watch his love suffer, locked up as a common criminal, destined for the gallows. Anyone who had ever met Will knew that the one way to force his hand was to harm Elizabeth. This was Beckett's plan all along.

"He wants something from _me_," Will said with certainty…..But what?

Elizabeth sighed and her warm breath on his neck brought his attention back to her. His eyes scanned her face, softly flitting down the length of her body. Even in this wet, bedraggled state, she was lovely.

"You made a beautiful bride," he told her softly, lovingly.

The tone of his voice made her heart ache, causing fresh tears to fill her eyes, a few errant drops spilling over. "How I wanted to be married to you."

"And you shall be," Will promised, tenderly pressing his forehead to hers. "This is only temporary. Remember, our little home waits for us and nothing can keep us from it."

Elizabeth managed a watery smile at his words. Will brushed his lips across her forehead in return. "I must find out what this is about, what it is that he wants," he continued. "And then I'll – "

"I love you, William Turner," she declared, an intense earnestness in her voice. "Whatever else happens, know that I love you. I always have and I always will."

Finding strength in her love, Will pulled Elizabeth tightly to him, her body pressed to his against the bars. "I will do whatever it takes – _whatever_ _it takes_, Elizabeth. I _shall_ free you."

Tilting her face around the bars, she softly kissed him, a world of love expressed in that one tender kiss. "And yourself. My freedom – my life – is worth nothing without you."

"I _will_ find a way."

"Turner," the guard suddenly shouted, shoving the key into his cell door, "Lord Beckett wishes to see you."

With one last kiss to her forehead, Will reluctantly let Elizabeth go, presenting his hands to the guard who immediately shackled them. With a final, reassuring smile to her, he was led up the stairs.

Sighing, Elizabeth slowly sat down upon her knees. In less than one day's time, their entire future had changed, but one thing remained certain. "I'll wait for you," she whispered after his retreating form. "I would wait forever."

* * *

AN: Well, we all know what happens from here! Only the epilogue remains, which will jump ahead to the end of AWE, as has been guessed, to their One Day. But, so as not to disappoint anyone, I want to put out the disclaimer now that the reason I'm including that day is to provide a sense of closure and show Will and Elizabeth's acceptance of their situation and the peace they have to make with it. So it's not exactly a hot and heavy love scene. I'm saving the best of that for my next story! (Although I never write above the "T" level; there are many others who do so far better than I ever could.)

I love all of your reviews and am anxious to hear what you think!


	17. One Day Together

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Nothing comes easily  
Fill this empty space  
Nothing is like it was  
Turn my grief to grace

_I just want to feel your embrace..._

* * *

Even now as she stood on the deserted beach, waiting for her husband, as the _Black Pearl_ sailed off into the distance, Elizabeth Turner wondered how things had become so complicated, so convoluted, so….wrong. As the light breeze swept through her hair on this now gloriously sunny day, it was agonizingly bittersweet to know that _at last_ they were married….but with such suffering ahead of them.

She glanced back at the longboat and the small but adequate provisions inside – a canteen, fruit and bread, and a blanket – and grew impatient for Will's presence, yearning to touch him, to wrap her arms around him, to know that he was really and truly alive – though now immortal, her mind tauntingly amended.

Her eyes returned to the sea, to the _Flying Dutchman_, Will's charge – his prison – for the next decade. Her heart ached realizing that his was now locked in a chest, and she summoned all of her strength to will away the sadness; there would be no tears on this, their one day together.

As Elizabeth looked out at the ocean, Will suddenly appeared behind her, the Dead Man's Chest in his hands, a soft throbbing emanating from within. He gazed at his love, his _wife_, her slender form appearing so tiny against the vastness of the sea, and knew that now was not the time for such a presentation. He gently laid the chest upon a rock then, thinking better of it, took off his jacket and draped it over top; they needed no reminders of the harsh future that awaited them after the bliss of today.

He was about to call out her name when, seeming to sense his presence, Elizabeth turned around and their eyes met. For a moment, they simply looked at one another, overcome with emotion at seeing the other there before them. Then merely looking was no longer enough.

"_Will_," Elizabeth said, running to him and throwing her arms about his neck as he held her closely in a loving embrace. "I thought I'd lost you."

"And I you," he breathed into her hair, cherishing the chance he thought he would never have to touch her, to hold her, once again.

Will pulled back to look upon Elizabeth, to memorize the contours of her beautiful face. As they gazed at each other, the sense of relief and euphoria at their reunion – which only minutes before had seemed impossible – began to melt away as the harsh reality of their situation begged notice; it would not be ignored. They could see it in one another's eyes, but neither wished to speak it, as if voicing the words aloud would make them more real.

At length, Will was the first to say it. "Ten years."

"It's so long…..so very long," Elizabeth whispered, her voice wavering as wayward tears filled her eyes.

Will reached out to her in silent comfort, for what could he say? There was nothing that could change the bitter truth. His hand tenderly cupped her cheek, her hair cascading across his fingers.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, savoring his touch as her heart cursed the errant tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. _Not now_, her heart screamed. _Not yet. There will be time enough for sadness, but not now while he is yet in your arms_.

She smiled lovingly, speaking the other truth, the happy one that kept them going now. "But you're here," she murmured, "my _husband_, and I love you so."

Her smile was mirrored on Will's face as he realized his lifelong dream: Elizabeth calling him her husband. Bending, he brought his lips to hers, their kiss saying what words could not. The kiss quickly intensified, escalating in passion as Will held Elizabeth tightly to him, her fingers clutching at his hair as his tongue twined with hers.

Slowly breaking the kiss, she stepped back from his arm. Reaching down into her belt and pulling out her sword, she stabbed it into the sand; there would be no more fighting today, only love. Elizabeth looked up to Will as he withdrew his own sword, expecting him to place it besides her sabre. Instead, he smiled softly at her as he crossed his sword with hers.

* * *

After they had become one for the first time, wishing to spare her modesty, Will had attempted to retrieve the blanket to cover Elizabeth, but she would have none of it. She had just given him her innocence and she was never going back to the restricted woman she once was. She was going to lie naked in the sunshine wrapped in nothing but his arms, swim with him bare in the surf, and cling to him upon the sand, making love countless times…..until he must leave her.

At the moment, husband and wife lie entangled together, surrounded by each other, her head resting on his broad chest as he lovingly caressed the soft, silky skin of her back, murmuring endearments into her ear between gentle kisses.

Will's eyes followed the length of Elizabeth's nude form, already finding himself wanting her again. Reaching down, he lightly brushed away the stray granules of sand that had alighted on her thigh.

His expression turned rueful. All those days and nights at the smithy and on their beach when they wanted each other desperately, when they could have easily fulfilled their desires then and there, he had held back, wishing to give her perfection – and still they ended up consummating their union upon an open beach not all that different from their own.

Will sighed as his hand took the place of the now removed sand, whispering scarcely loud enough for her to hear, "It's not as I promised."

As she lie nestled against his chest, his words came flooding back to her...

_"Everything will be utterly perfect for us, I promise you that. And when we are finally man and wife, when we are finally one - in all ways - it will be borne of purity and love, and wholly beyond reproach."_

Looking up at him, Elizabeth smiled, her heart in her eyes. "It is _exactly_ as you promised." He tenderly kissed her lips, calling to mind his heated kisses on other parts of her body. She shivered softly. "It's better than I dreamed. Different, but better…." Her mind searched for a word to embody all that they had just experienced. "….._More_," she settled on, "more than I ever imagined….Beautiful."

Gently rolling over, deftly switching their positions so he now lie atop her, Will kissed Elizabeth once more, this kiss longer, deeper, more insistent. He wished to make love to her again, to relive the sensations that had sent them both on a dizzying ascent to the heavens.

Yet, breaking the kiss, he looked into her eyes. Having already delved into how their present reality deviated from their previous hopes for the future, he found he must ask the question that lingered at the corner of his mind.

"Are you happy, Elizabeth?"

Knowing what he truly meant, but not wishing to have such a painful discussion just yet, she answered him truthfully, hoping her words would be enough for the moment. "Deliriously. How could I be anything but? I'm finally lying here in your arms – as your _wife_."

Will brushed his lips across her collarbone, grateful for the confirmation of her present happiness, but knowing she had avoided the underlying question – and he still needed to know. "Yes, my love, but are you _completely_ happy….with your choice? Knowing what you do now, how things must go for us, what we must suffer to be together, would you still have married me this morning?"

Elizabeth sighed softly, sadness creeping into her eyes at the contemplation of things she did not yet wish to fill her mind. Nevertheless, she understood his need to hear her answer. "Will, if you hadn't asked me on the _Pearl_, I would've asked you now, even after all that's happened. Even with you now the Captain and bound from my arms for a decade's time, I still want nothing more than to be your wife, to share your name, to lie in your arms, to worship your body as you worship mine. What we must face will be difficult – painful beyond our current comprehensions – but it has not, _could not_, alter my love and devotion toward you or _ever_ change my mind, nothing could."

She smiled as his eyes fell closed in blissful relief at her words, his forehead resting upon her chest. Elizabeth lovingly stroked Will's curls, thinking over all they had been through since their initial attempt at matrimony more than a year ago.

At length, she confided, "The only thing I would have done differently is to relive those months with you on our way to Singapore.….When I think of the chances we squandered, all those moments we could have been together…..Had I only known what little time we had left….."

Will lifted his head from the comfort of her breast to regard her face, hoping to impart to her a portion of the comfort she had bestowed upon him.

However, looking into his eyes, the sadness vanished from hers. "I don't want to waste the time we have now mourning the loss of things that can't be changed," Elizabeth softly continued. "I have you now….It's not enough. It could never be enough….But it will be; it _must_ be. Somehow, we shall make it be."

"Oh, _Elizabeth_," he breathed her name as if it were his very salvation, "I _will _give you all the things I promised. The life we wished to have will still be ours…..It is not lost, only delayed. One day, we _will_ be together."

Her hands slid from his hair, one resting upon his back as the other clutched at his hip, pulling him against her. "Make love to me, Will," Elizabeth passionately implored. "Let me lose myself in you."

His heart leapt, eager to comply, as he fervently pressed his lips to hers.

* * *

As Elizabeth had wished, neither spoke again of the painful truth, saving the necessities of planning their future reunion and discussing how and where she would live until later in the day. They made love again and again, exploring one another's bodies, enacting long harbored fantasies beneath the canopy of a crystal blue sky.

At Will's suggestion, they frolicked in the salty waters in the midafternoon sunlight, laughing and splashing one another until the heat between them reignited and their bodies found their way together in the warm waters.

They had been kissing madly in the sea for neither one knew how long when, just as Will was prepared to drift back to shore and have his way with Elizabeth in the pounding surf, she pulled back away from him, an impish look in her eyes.

He was so swept away by raging desires, the telling gleam that normally would have alerted him to her impending mischief escaped Will's notice. He bent to reclaim her lips, but Elizabeth darted away from his kiss, abruptly swimming to shore. Dazed, it took Will a moment to realize what had happened but, grinning, he was soon in hot pursuit.

They raced up the beach, the currents carrying them to shore at points slightly askew, and stopped on either side of their crossed swords. Their gazes intertwined, focusing intently in a visual standoff, each attempting to discern the other's next move. Losing – or perhaps winning – Will was the first to look away, his eyes leaving hers to flit down and back up her naked body.

Meeting her eyes again, his own were darkened with lust, adding a new heat to their playfulness, as Elizabeth's breath began to quicken, already aware of what was to come. Will suddenly lunged for her, sweeping her up into his arms and kissing her wildly as he stumbled up the beach to lay her softly upon the sand, their kiss never breaking as he swiftly covered her body with his.

Will's lips found their way down her neck and chest in a nibbling descent that left Elizabeth gasping as she arched into his body. Placing one last kiss between her breasts, he brought his mouth back to hers, stopping with his lips a mere hairbreadth from hers as he whispered, "All I want to touch, taste, and breathe is you, until it's time for me to go."

They hungrily devoured one another's lips as if they were starving – for they very soon would be – each savoring the taste, for the next was many years away.

* * *

AN: For my take on what happens next, check out my post-AWE (really more of a "Ten Years") fic, _The Key To Immortality _– especially as my very next story will be its sequel, _The Healing Touch_. Thank you so much to everyone who read this story (and a special thanks to those who faithfully reviewed each chapter). It's always a lovely surprise to find that there's someone who's simply reading, let alone enjoying, my stories. I love the characters of Will and Elizabeth so very much that I think I would continue writing if only for myself, but it's very nice to know that there's someone else who appreciates the Willabeth world I've tried to extend from the films. So thank you all very much!

And in case you're wondering, the lyrics at the beginning of the chapter are from a beautiful song by Kate Havnevik called "Grace".

I'm probably going to take a short break now that _Courtship_ is finished to focus exclusively on the outline for _The Healing Touch_, but I hope to have the first installment published in no more than 1 ½ to 2 weeks.

Thank you all for reading!


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